In a real haunted house
In a real haunted house
Originally uploaded by studiosound.
I'm tired of talking LA. Let's talk of other things I've done on my many months on the road..
Before we had to come back, We were living out of our car, traveling up the west coast along Highway one and the Big Sur. There were dozens of beautiful sights. But I must admit I love abandoned things (I once found an abandoned THEME PARK. 870 acres of insane amazing things!!! But I digress)..Out of the corner of my eye I was a cabin with it's windows boarded up way up on a hill. My right eyebrow shot up and I stopped my car. Jes was too tired to come up there, so I climbed up this STEEP hill to get to this place that had come into the possession of the US Government. That wouldn't stop me from my intrigue, said the cat... I snuck around looking for an entry. Everything was closed up tight...Until I found a little string hanging behind a heavy plank. I pulled it an zoom! The door opened. That was one smart hobo, whomever broke in here. I looked around, using the flash of my camera to find where I was. The place had several rooms, one kitchen, no bathroom on the bottom floor. The space looked smaller from the inside than out. A room was hidden from me. So I looked around in the darkness until I found some drywall with a small hole just big enough to crawl through. Aha! Another room, this one looked like a work room of some kind, with shelving as far as I could see in the darkness. As I wandered about, I found the remnants of 5 or more Soy milk cartons and a sweatshirt. Whoever was here before me was probably here weeks or months ago.
I decided to look outside for more secrets. As I came around, I saw a room above me, with no way up but to climb, so I did. What I found was kind of unsettling. Crazed writings all over the place, and tons of broken glass in the bathtub. I could only wonder what had gone on here earlier. As I went around the perimeter I came upon a shack and a chicken coop, that had a sign on a red table that read, PROCESSED. It was then I realized where I was. I was probably in Jack Kerouac's house in his book, Big Sur. It was high enough, and the descriptions were pretty spot on.
As I took pictures of the place, every shot had blurry images flying around in different places. Happily crept out, I made my was down and back to the car. I can't wait to make my return to that place.
Strangely, a few miles down the road outside of a metaphysical poet's library we happened upon an old time circus (the whole group traveled in an old school bus!), complete with a Russian/Yiddish band. Not really related to the previous stuff, but very insane!