The Strange Hours Travelers Keep

I like to keep this phrase in mind…perhaps it’s another reason I love travel. Time doesn’t matter either, only place, really. It’s a living in the moment kind of phrase.

I am working on the Silent Mind road journal, and this phrase is incredibly relevant to that piece and that trip.
Shows ends at 2 a.m. normally, but then there’s the settling money issues with the club owners, packing up (this time in zero-degree weather) and finding a place to sleep…but that’s not usually until 5 or 6 a.m. because the band is pumped and looking for some drinks and decompression time.

This is also actually the title of the poet, August Kleinzahler’s new book, and he took it from a Wallace Steven’s line. I like Wallace Steven’s a lot, but when ever I go to buy some of his poetry, they only sell it in huge compilations. I find them unsatisfying and physically uncomfortable to read.

To be up late kind of proves time wrong, stick’s it to him. In the sense that the sun’s rules can’t even regulate my day. I’m an invincible little goddess! Haha. Enough ego talk, but I hope you get what I mean.

The added photo was taken in Maine by my friend Liz Coleman, the next Ansel Adams.

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