A Living Magazine - Tap Root: Days 83 to 85 - Farmington Aesthetics--Buildings and Architecture

Thirty years ago I was a freshman college student at UMF (University of Southern Maine). Way back then I had a brand new appreciation for Maine architecture. That last spring I had just completed a Maine Architecture elective course for my senior year in high school with a great teacher who truly inspired me to stop and look at the little details in buildings and houses instead of just driving by them.

I was fortunate enough to be attending my first year of college in such a singular place as Farmington, Maine. And, I did genuinely appreciate my many short walks between the university buildings, and also my strolls into the downtown area.

A friend of mine recently well-expressed the unique character of this rural town as being "the only coastal town to be located in the Maine countryside." I thought that was a great way to put it. You just don't see the clean, classic buildings and wide variety of businesses that Farmington contains in other rural Maine towns. It is so much more characteristic of the Maine Midcoast region (Wiscasset to Bar Harbor). 

Now, mix in Farmington's 2017 cosmopolitan student population, whose Millennial generation of dyed-hair, tattooed, heavily pierced, diversely dressed, LGBT and straight young adults happily roaming the streets and stores, with not the slightest sense of negative self-consciousness. Yes, they still have the same fears and shaky desires to fit in that all late teens and early twenty-somethings have dealt with, but in today's world it is so much less about appearance than when I took classes here. And, thank God.

While high school may have prejudiced these young people - in the towns all around the nation, where they grew up and had to face their parents' social, political and religious biases at home - college life, and being immersed in a student population filled with people who are utterly different from their secondary school experience, does a very good job of resetting ideology. They feel free to adopt new ideas without the hometown scrutiny and circumscribed peer pressure they have now left at home. At least that is what happened to me, here, three decades ago.

As I write here at Dunkin Donuts in the middle of town, I observe that the girls who are into conforming to more socially "girly" fashion - with its highly sexualized forms of dress--super-short shorts, tight-fitting one piece dresses, open midriff halters and carefully-ripped jeans, etc. - are now hanging out with the "emo-girls" with pierced noses, shoulder length straight black hair, pink stockings and white or black lipstick, etc. And, both groups seem emulsified by the middling girls who are more comfortable in their LLBean sweaters, modest jackets, looser jeans and other clothes that are always acceptable (the same kind of slightly-unisex, ivy league-like, New England clothes that I grew up with and still gravitate toward). 

Interestingly, all girls in this age group seem to have "stretch pants day" when a memo alert must be texted to all iPhone users? Maybe it is weekend fashion or something? Perhaps someone from that age group will clue me in? Anyhow, black stretch pants apparently cross all aesthetic boundaries. For a man about to turn 50 years old, it sometimes appears as though these pants are more like painted-on versions of skinny jeans. I guess I am showing my age when I think some things were once better left to the imagination. 

As for the young men I see? Most seem to be more like high school freshman than college students. They seem far less interested in romantic encounters than with hanging out together and enjoying their other common interests. These interests appear to be centered around maintaining a kind of neonatal permanence. What I mean by this is that men of this age group see no need to abandon their skateboards and video games. They openly express their innermost feelings and insecurities with each other. 

And, this brings me to the conversations I overhear. But... I am not going to get into these very fascinating subjects in this post. It can wait. It is worth the wait.

What I do wonder about is whether Liberal Arts and the study of high quality English language literature, art history, philosophy, world history and, yes, classical architecture are appreciated before entering college these days? For me, the introduction of cultural subjects of this kind was raised to scholarly heights when I got a chance to be treated like an adult in college, rather than have my creative dreams continuously smashed in my hometown school system. 

I guess the above tangents come gravitationally circling back to why it is so nice in the middle years of life to re-inhabit this town where my first cultural mind expansion really took hold three decades ago. 

With my walking into town nearly every day, I have had a new way to appreciate what I had first seen here as a young, undeservedly-arrogant, know-it-all kid. It is a great blessing to overlay my impressions from those long ago days upon my much more experienced older self. It isn't just a visual paradigm that inspires me to start what this occasional series I am calling "Farmington Aesthetics." This brief first post under that heading will introduce my inexplicable aesthetic senses in the only way I can initially approach these things.

I intend to transition from my material observations into the deeper and less apparent aspects of this unusual place called, Farmington, Maine. It is worth examining the dense mixture of cultural assumptions and unexpected happenings that make this town a one of a kind Maine experience. I have found progressivity imbedded in one of the most traditional and conservative areas of Maine; a village of farmers and blue collar sensibility, where it can also safely be claimed that an anything goes attitude is allowed to prosper. Today though, let's start with the traditional buildings.

To start, here are the houses located along my Middle Street walk into town...

A gorgeous glassed in porch.

A three story Victorian.

One version of "the New Englander" style of house--often varieties of this are found

in the multi-unit Maine apartments of the major cities. The characteristics include a door 

on one side of the major section. Often there is a bay window (but not in this case).

A favorite smaller house, with permanent Christmas lights in the windows.

Another much more elaborate New Englander with impeccable paint job.

Neat and clean house that appears to have once been a bit more disheveled.

Love the in-ground garage. This house has one of the prettiest side yards in town...

...See the little running by the apple tree in the back.

Here is the New Englander with the bay window. I would have chosen a different color scheme

than the mustard hues, but the painted detail is quite intricate.

Another small but pretty house. I like how they have left most of the yard in a natural state.

All of the above houses are typical of every street in this town. Finally, Middle Street gives way to High Street and the edge of the UMF campus...

The fabulously beautiful and interestingly designed Farmington Public Library. 

Taking a left and walking east along High Street we see the typical squared off red brick and
white wooden buildings of the UMF campus...

Purington Hall dorm.

The UMF Student Center, home of the best college meals on the East Coast of America.

When I was going to school here we would have steak night once per week and a lobster bake

during the last week of school. They have a salad bar 20 feet long. My band played here in the 

spring of 1988. Activist groups set up tables and booths in the lobby, so there is always something

culturally interesting for students to explore.

The UMF Art Gallery.

Behind Ricker Hall.

And, here it is--Scott Hall dorm, South (left) and North (right), connected by the lounge.

My room was in Scott North, on the top floor, third set of windows back--Room 308.

In my time it was a "smoking room." Today the whole campus is smoke free. 

In that room the most profound experience of my life took place. It is part of the amazing

story that I hope to be writing up for you this winter. This semi-supernatural occurrence negatively affected everything that happened to me in the last thirty years. It is something that I intend to face again and finally come to terms with. I must end the spell or there may be no more story.......

The building next to Scott Hall. Just...WOW!

Bailey Hall, where most of my classes were.

Once on Main Street take a right and head downtown...

The Farmington Post Office--Can you see the Veterans for Peace demonstration?

It happens once every two weeks or so and is put on by older folks.

If only the students were so passionate...

Main Street outside Dunkin Donuts.

Pierce Retirement Home.

Formerly a church, now the UMF Psychology Department Building

Some beautiful private residences--Farmington's old money...

Businesses at the corner of High and Broadway.

I thought I had pictures of Broadway, but I guess not.

I will add some when I can.

That's it for now. Thanks so much for taking this aesthetic walk with me!

A Living Magazine - Tap Root: Days 71 to 82 - Winterizing and My Unasked-for Advice Phobia

I learned about a month ago that due to building code requirements I would not be able to construct the cabin in which I'd planned to spend the winter. Strangely, it was not because of the small square footage, nor composting toilet, nor gray water plan, etc. Rather, it has to do with confusion over whether my right of way (the dirt road that leads to my property) should be considered a driveway at the point where it enters the border of my land. Determining that will decide the building location.

I have no other place to spend the winter, and can't afford to pay rent and mortgage (my mortgage is about a third of what an average rent would be). There is no question that I must stay on the land through the coming winter. So, now my task will be to winterize the tent. I must make it a shelter suitable for surviving the season.

At first this situation caused me a great deal of stress. It wasn't so much the idea of the discomforts and danger of essentially living outside during a Maine winter where snow can remain three feet deep for months and the temperatures can plummet to 20 below zero Fahrenheit. 

My aggravation had more to do with the requirement of delaying my ever-precious plans. You know from reading my past attempts to plan, and the way fate has of throwing them in the trash, just how stupid it is for me to rely on my own timeframes.

After a short amount of time though, I began to feel much better about the whole thing. I don't know if it was the Spark or simply my own need to comfort myself, but I had the strong impression that no matter what happens everything will be alright. Please do not mistake that for blithe and carefree indifference. The concept relieving my anxiety was more like, "...even if I die from exposure, everything will be alright..." There was also the sense that I still had more to "pay" for, before I could truly call this place my home. 

I imagined that maybe the invisible destiny-givers think I would become somehow complacent, a hermit, "lost" in the woods of myself, were I to have such a safe and relatively comfortable time right off the bat. I mean, it just doesn't fit the pattern of my life. For godsakes, a reliable shelter would indicate that I'd fallen into a lazy life of ease! All sarcasm aside, perhaps this cold dark requisite might be the only way to keep people interested in the project. Regardless of anything I might hypothesize about why this is happening, I WILL be living in this tent through to spring.

Unfortunately, the money I had planned to use for construction must now be channeled into winterizing and survival. This means that when I am approved by the Town of Farmington to build my little cottage, I will probably not have the funds to do so. The struggle to have even the smallest amount of what others take for granted, and some others have never known a day without, will continue as it has... Amen.

The priority list has now become the following...

* Cover the tent with a canopy. That is what I started two weeks ago...

I  know it looks ramshackle, but it is very strong.

* Surround the canopy with a vertical skirt that will completely enclose the tent. I still need to buy a couple more tarps to complete this.

* Construct tarp canopies over other parts of the property to keep snow off my firewood and tools.

* Construct a rigid foam insulation inner-shell for the tent, complete with doors and possibly some kind of windows.

* Buy a safe (no carbon monoxide producing) propane heater, and a 20 pound tank of propane--which should easily last a month at a time.

Essentially, I aim to have quite a bit of this area of the land completely covered. There will be a hundred other things that I have not anticipated. The danger of admitting on social media that I haven't thought of everything, means I will be swamped with unasked-for advice. Everyone who sleeps in a warm bedroom, tucked inside a strong shelter will become an instant expert on spending the Maine winter in a tent. Already, I suspect that people are angling for ways to talk me out of this. 

This brings up the second half of this post...

I am having a harder and harder time not becoming enraged with people who think they know better than I do what is best for me. I find it interesting to know that had I not bought this land I would probably be spending the winter in my little IWALLK tent anyway--something people apparently would not have been surprised by. I am in a much better position to survive with what I have now. But none of what I say to defend my own judgement means a damned thing to some folks. I wish it didn't bother me so much. But it does. It always has and I have never found a way to mitigate this disability of mine. I wonder if it might be what drives me to pursue my goals at nearly any price?

I was told, when I left Maine to cross the country in October of 2014 that I was crazy. As I crossed the country, I heard that so many times that it actually made me proud to hear it after a while. When I got to the West Coast, I was criticized for not enduring enough hardship on the way. So, when I planned the trip back to Maine, I made sure that I would never hear that again, by putting myself through every imaginable situation. When I made it back to Maine I was criticized for asking for donations for my blog, despite how much I went through, and still was jabbed for spending a night in a motel room instead of sleeping in the rain, etc...

In all I traveled 10,000 miles, walked about 5,000 of those, including an unbroken walk from Georgia to Washington DC, and then across all of Western New England, in all - from October 2014 to 2016 - rough camping over 400 times, with an additional trek up the Maine coast--40 more rough camps. Tack on the number of nights I have camped on my land and we are looking at over 500 nights spent outside in the last three years. Still I am treated like a novice by some friends who see themselves as my mentors, though my experience dwarfs anything they've ever done. Others donate money in order to buy influence over my activities. This irritates me even more than the armchair advisors. I have returned donations if I sensed that they were meant only to steer me toward the agendas of the donors.

When I announced my purchase of this land and my plans for it, I was told that it was too dangerous, that it was too much work for a fragile "inexperienced" (!), person like myself. Even if I survive the entire winter, adding that to my slate of experiential challenges, still there will be people who think I should do what they want and am incapable of self-direction. Again, this maddening and insulting.

In the last few months I have really felt the poison of social media in my life. I also see how it drives other people crazy, makes things harder and leads to undeserved anxiety. I need the medium of Facebook in order to promote my projects, but I am beginning to steer away from all other interactions there.

I even considered completely retiring from public life. But that isn't the answer. I have a story - an epic saga; a future legend - to establish before my heart pulls me to the ground again. I will complete it if I can, and it will be in full view of the public.

I NEVER intrude into anyone's life plans with unasked for advice or suggestions...EVER. I was taught that the Golden Rule was the standard for this kind of thing. Yet, I find that the most religious people I know are the most likely to shove their advice down my throat. They are followed by many conservatives who live vicariously through my extraordinary ability to put my thoughts into action. They are at the same time attracted to my sheer force of will, while being repelled by my progressive ideas. Some have completely crossed over the line, by actively discouraging, naysaying, and criticizing me--unfairly judging me. How pathetic and small is a person whose own life is so boring, misled, unfulfilled, shallow and petty that they feel the need to attack a person who truly is trying to exceed himself by doing what I have chosen to do with my life? This is even painfully true with some of the closest members of my family.

I am supported by (roughly) 40% progressive intellectual liberal/progressives, 30% conservative/libertarians,  20% psychedelic cognitive libertarians (the group I identify my own beliefs most closely with), and 10% social religionists. This generalization is anecdotal and purely my own subjective evaluation.

Finally, I want to state for the record that I believe very strongly believe that ALL ideology is poisonous to the soul. The Sparks find it exceedingly hard to cooperate with each other in the current environment of blind adherence to overused human ideology. So many adults believe that other "expert" need be relied upon to do their heavy intellectual lifting for them.

This of course should not surprise anyone, least of all me. We have our individual dreams and goals pounded out of us in the educational system, which feeds us like meat animals to be "processed" into the feed lots of corporate/consumer, debt-based traps. By the time we are reaching our 40's (if we have not yet woken up) our investment in the thing-fetishizing culture of plastic salad shooters, shopping for sport, consuming crap--made important over all other activities, complacently dumbing ourselves before the entertainment gods, and killing ourselves with the socially accepted drugs of red meat, TV, alcohol, tobacco, transfat, caffeine, fossil fuel squandering transport, culturally sanctioned sexual abuse, etc., has nailed us to the cliff.

By that time it is simply too difficult to begin over again. Families are stuck in habits that destroy their children's futures, while abusively insisting that those children raise their own children to do the same. There is no hell, save that which these final generations are creating for the future.

So...

I will continue to winterize my land. I will continue to simplify at every chance I get. I will continue to fight against cyperconventionalism, social conformity, unthinking uniformity, self-blindness, matter-obsessed materialism, wasteful habits, over indulgence, and ideology.

That is why I insist on making my life MY OWN and rejecting the intrusion of others who with extremely limited understanding of my situation, insist on counseling me when I don't ask for it. Not only should these sickly self-appointed doctors heal themselves first, before thinking they know what is better for me than I know for myself, they should begin to realize that it is not me whom they seek to "help" but rather themselves. Spewing what I "should be" doing is purely the act of people who are desperate for others to see them as superior somehow. Some folks coddle the purveyors of this bullshit, by rationalizing: "they are well intentioned" ... "they only want to help" ... "just let it go...let it run off your shoulders" ... But I am done accepting those excuses.

This is - I think? - something like my seventh or eighth IWALLK blog posts addressing the subject (on top of dozens of Facebook posts saying just as much) of just how strongly I despise the self-appointed advice of these folks. Knowing most of them have read these posts, I no longer have any tolerance for this behavior. That they would read how much it bothers me and then continue to do it is unforgivable at this point. I have so much to deal with just to stay alive. While exposing myself to the extreme challenges of environmental danger, harsh weather, shoestring economic budgets, exhausting physical work, and my own tendency toward self-loathing, I think that people who aren't even empathetic enough to respect my many, many requests to remain unadvised--unless bidden for such advice, and morally supported--rather than poo-pooed, discouraged, insulted, disrespected, criticized and mocked by them, are worthy of my personal excommunication. The life I live is far too dangerous for me to be burdened by these folks.

I regret even having to speak on any of this. The blog will return to its more descriptive reporting with a bunch of lighter and more entertaining posts I have been working on, in the next couple weeks. I will be running a funding campaign for winter survival in next month. In the meantime, those who really understand what I am and what I do could do a great deal by making a contribution through the Paypal donate button, morally supporting this project at Facebook by sharing these posts with friends and family, leaving comments and generally sending positive vibes in my direction as I begin to enter the most difficult four months I have ever experienced. Like crossing a nation or just long distance walking between cities, let's spend this time together. The winter will be cold, dark, hungry and harsh, but when we emerge next spring maybe we will have all experienced one of the most enlightening challenges we have ever faced, as individuals or collectively.

I especially want to thank those who have consistently given without the expectation of any kind of return. That is the true definition of love...You are the most loyal and naturally wise people I know. You are my true family and I do love you right back.