with love, from wellington.

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january 23.

wellington. might just nab the prize for coolest spot in new zealand. it has the happenin’ art and music scene, stellar architecture, and that old brick feel a good city has. but it also gave me all the things my heart needed in a short amount of time. so it won me over. easy.

i had a few hours to my lonesome and i bee-lined it straight to a street cafe. some earl grey tea, a djarum, my journal, a good book, it’s a rock-solid formula. accumulate things you love into one sit down and happiness is yours.

and it was here that a huge smile slid across my face when i recognized one of my favorite quotes right there on page five.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…”

i finished some pages then nabbed some art snaps as i wandered down the street…

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and wandered some more…

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…until i heard the sounds of Bob Dylan.
STOP.

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the kind of dudes i was starting to think were more myth than anything else, all donned in vests, flannel, shades, and aged jeans with guitars and songbook out, were whalin’ out, “it ain’t me babe”.

“but it ain’t me, babe, no, no, no, it ain’t me, babe, it ain’t me you’re lookin’ for.”

alright, so -10 points for picking mcdonalds as their concert venue, but still, i was still right into it. this is the kind of place i’d want to live in.

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they wrapped up their song and i walked over to throw in a couple bucks.

no, they weren’t hobos in need of money, i was just a girl in need of a conversation opener. so i tossed in my coins, introduced myself and we chatted about bob dylan, wellington, and a party they were going to. rad dudes.

since i had to catch a ferry to the south island the following hour, i couldn’t go to the party. but even so, on i walked with a new skip in my step…

…all the way into a big labyrinth of graffiti. i don’t know why i love it so much. maybe because its unconventionally beautiful, or maybe because its without order. it all led into a dead-end, so though i was fascinated, my mind quickly jumped to, “um…some dude comes down here and you get easily mugged.” it was more my dads cautious voice in my head than my own, thankfully his is never far.

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with love, from wellington.

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5 responses to “with love, from wellington.

  1. dani – as one who also agonizes with “experiencing vs. recording” let me say THANKS! for those of us who aren’t able to be “mad” at the moment. the vicarious thrills of discovery are decidedly second class, but most welcome all the same. goodonya. hug benny for me. jim.

  2. Word! Im glad I found your blog.

  3. dani, im sitting here in bed, sick, sipping on chicken noodle soup (that you got when you were here!) thinking that you + the Dylan crew make a good looking picture. Only you would be like, “So.. can I get a picture?” Love it.

    I know internet cafe’s and down time aren’t in abundance, but i do appreciate whenever you DO scribble down something on this ol blog here. I love reading it.

    ps- the guy in the plaid flannel? get ’em girl….

  4. Wellington sounds like a music lovers heaven (Neil Young AND a group of rad guys singing Bob) Though i’m glad you got out of that back alley, I knew I should have given you my leatherman.

    Bring me back the dude with the hat and gnarly gotee……

  5. Dani….loving your blog, your writing is excellen…and I am so glad things are wonderful!!!! I am praying fo you! Love you tons! enjoy for me….

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