Once upon a time, and a rather exciting time at that, a raccoon waddled into a campsite. After a few moments, it found what it was smelling for- a piece of potato, a golden morsel, a vestige of the meal made over the fire the night before. Potato in his happy little grip, he returned to the dense wood from whence he came.

Not far from this happy raccoon, the Kid pulled along the eerie canal, pulled along a black man named James who had a tackle box in his hand and $10 in his pocket and was heading to the casino. In the steel producing city of Buffalo, the Kid circled into an empty parking lot, downshifted to 1st gear and then back up to neutral, killed his engine. The purr came to a silence.

Bubbling- blop, blop- from the front forks of the motorcycle was a steady blop, blop of oil. He dismounted from the black and brown bike to have a better look. A blop blopped like a sick baby blopping down his chin.

Farewell Rivertown

Ma, Please do not worry

Thank you ol’ Bloodline, ol’ Friends, Heroes, Muses, oh Captain, my Captain.

My very best

Apropos of my plans to ride cross continent on a 1978 Honda Hawk motorcycle:

The Boy and His Horse

The boy courts the horse one day to play;
Once bound, hooves flake ground and he atop, attached
Hawk fingers gripping mane, legs press’d.
Through gulps of wind the boy whispers, Yes.

Four legs stretch over open plain,
Cracked marble columns at their backs:
Together they clear high above walls
And go as far as the beast and boy are willing.

This is an excerpt from Lewis Hyde’s book, The Gift:

The initial gift is what is bestowed upon the self- by perception, experience, intuition, imagination, a dream, a vision or by another work of art…The ability to do the labor is the second gift…Men or women of talent must work to perfect their gifts, of course; no one is exempt from the long hours of practice…The artist makes something higher than what he has been given, and this, the finished work, is the third gift, the one offered to the world in general or directed back specifically to the “clan or homeland” of an earlier gift. (pg.248)

Overall, the book is exceptional. Hyde looks at art’s function in society today, by way of the history of gift giving. He posits that art can occupy the market economy as well as what he refers to as the gift giving economy. In seeking this balance, the artist bows to both logos and to eros. If the artist fails to meet market necessities, he or she will starve. If the art-making is driven solely by the market, the resulting product will be a commodity.