Like a Humboldt
March 18th, 2009 ryanBack on the grid, not that I was ever really off it. More of a sustained single digit connection from a one-armed zip line, hurtling downwards through Tronlike extensions of the collective data lines that intersect between mobile computing and the barest of intermittent pingbacks.
I’m more of a nester, the kind that requires a moss lined cave sporting womblike ratios and angles to better fertilize emerging productivity. I’ve had the same gear with me on the road but the juices don’t rise to the surface like they do when properly entrenched. Sitting on a few projects at present that call to me in the night, begging distillation. “Finish us!” they scream as I turn frantic, unproductive circles in my rented room.
I’ve never been in this hotel before. I’ve been in this hotel a thousand times.
I feel like a humboldt, limbs tucked as I pulse and glide in bursts with telltale flashes lacking any coherency beyond an undefinable, primal, urgency.
To my right the sun is setting across Camelback Mountain, a burnt bactrian silhouette you really only see out here in the Sonoran desert. It signals the end of a day spent immersed in my new world of seemingly boundless tech and an ever-expanding comprehension of my role supporting it. In the mean time Home sits unpacked, anxious feline keeping a sleepy guard on the inert cardboard that houses the shit that only seems to matter when it’s not at hand.
Pulse and glide.
It’s been a busy yet fulfilling few weeks, hopefully those things I’ve left stewing in their own juices won’t have lost their potency when I reach back in to the brine.