I decided to visit Pam and Gene again before making the long trek back to California, so with
a new headlight in place I was travelling east along the coast once more. I arrived to hear the news that Gene had been promoted and was busy sewing his new stripes on his uniforms. My visit with them put my vagabond existence into perspective – I too needed to get to work on with whatever life lay ahead for me, this adventure had begun to lose its carefree jauntiness and the need for direction and purpose began to rear its ugly head. How to pursue my interests and give them some kind of substance? I wasn’t involved with anyone then, getting married to transition away from home was not an option. I wasn’t trained for any career. I knew making art would always be a part of my life - but only part. I needed another intermediary state, a place where I could be on my own but still buffered from ’life’. I needed to buy a little more time. The answer for me was the same as for so many others - apply to grad school. So back I headed, my final week of freewheeling and freeloading a hazy blur of passing scenery, road signs and friendly faces, my focus directed towards the Western horizon. I didn’t know it then, but I would be headed east again in less than a year to begin building my own life, this time to the Midwest and Iowa - as unlikely a place to me then as Marrakesh.
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