Check out this picture of me. It looks like Gary Busey’s mug shot mixed with an intoxicated leprechaun.

http://blog.syracuse.com/listenup/2009/05/mikey_powell_hits_the_road_for.html

I just wanted to share a business idea that I had.  I was browsing through the newspaper this morning and I stumbled upon an interesting ad in the classifieds section.  Someone was selling an abandoned auto sales lot down south in Harrison, NY.    I want to buy it just so I can call it “Harrison Ford”.  Think about it…who wouldn’t want to buy a used car from Harrison Ford.

It was 1:15pm when I ducked off the busy West 23rd pedestrian highway and pushed my way through the glass doors of The Chelsea Hotel in Manhattan.  My eyes had never seen a hotel lobby with this much character. There was no trace of stock carpeting, no plastic fruit bowls, no mass-produced TJ Maxx art prints, or any sight of an electric fireplace. Instead, the walls were drenched with artwork that oozed with creativity and the artistic spirit.  The entry room radiated, sending waves of individualism and expression deep into my soul.   It was as if the building had dropped to its knees to give me a hug and reassure me that this lonely artistic path that I chose does not have to be lonely.  There was no theme to the artwork and the placement of each piece did not feel particular. The only theme that I could draw from what I was looking at was expression and that is the only theme that I care about.  I was immediately jarred by a large canvas oil painting of a black horse that hung above two vintage-checkered high back chairs and an elegant, but not too elegant, lamp and table combo.  This was the perfect place for an intelligent conversation with a stranger, no small talk.  I slowly strolled up to the front desk and it seemed as if they already knew who I was, they handed me my key to room 901, and pointed me in the right direction.  On my way to the elevator I noticed that the Hotel Chelsea slogan had been written on the wall, “A Rest Stop For Rare Individuals”, I knew right away I was in the right place.

I took the short elevator ride up to my room so I could drop off my guitar.  As the elevator doors split on my floor my eyes met the amazingly unique Chelsea Hotel staircase.  Gold and black, like a knight at night. It felt majestic and noble. As I stepped into my hallway I noticed once again the walls were covered with wonderful artwork, both paintings and wall sculptures, the kind of art that moves a man.  Once again, expression was the only theme. The art followed me down into my room where I turned the key, threw my guitar on the bed, and retreated back to the lobby.

I sat in the lobby and watched as Tourists eyes wandered the walls like they were viewing an art gallery.  It didn’t feel like a gallery to me, it felt more like I was part of the art.  Many fingers were pointed but the lobby remained very quiet out of courtesy to the half a dozen writers whose heads seemed to be spilling onto their moleskins.  My head came up from the marble floor just in time to catch a tall thin man with long flowing blonde hair in ripped and stitched khakis kick off his skate board in front of the hotel.  He came walking through the doors with an infectious smile that seemed to glow even among the incredible wall art. He looked at me, opened his arms wide and said, “My brother, thank you for coming, this is going to be epic.”  Sam Bassett was home.

What happened next can be viewed in the media section of  politeRebel.com

It was an amazing day to take photographs.  Amazing jet streams, great chicken noodle soup, beautiful skies, Angel windows, and CP’s company.  Topped of by the usual hungry man lobster meal and a Mason jar of Pina Colada.

I consider Sam Bassett one of my closest friends.  I trust him as a person, I respect him as an individual, he inspires me as an artist, and I love him like a brother.  Please check out sambassett.com, not for Sam’s sake, but for yours.  They are more than pictures, sculptures, and portraits…much more.  Sam has the ability to take portraits that are not only visually stimulating, but each one holds an important emotional attachment that forces you to look into your self.  Sam is effortlessly walking three steps ahead of the rest of us, but he never forgets to turn around to offer his hand so we can see what he is seeing.

Thank you Sam. See you there.

Trunks on trains
Carry my thoughts away
Derailed yet railed
Speeding through everyday

Trying to coral them
Is like herding greased pigs
So I hide from them
But I can’t stay hid

I lift up my heart
And pray that they nest
Deep in my mind
Or straight in my chest

But just as I catch one
It explodes in my hands
I can’t feel my fingers
I don’t need them to dance

So I waltz through the kitchen
To pick up my pen
To capture the idea
I unlocked in my head

I open the cupboard
With my will and my teeth
Moleskin with paper
Feather pen underneath

Images start flooding
The gaps in my mind
Filling them deeply
Aiding my rhyme

I twist off the porch
And roll onto the lawn
By the time I awoke
My idea had gone

Last night was great at The Empire.  I had my favorite dish, chicken tenders and honey mustard, just before the show so my stomach was satisfied from the beginning.  There was an amazing turn out so I have to thank all of you that came to the show to check it out.  Like I have said before…without you I would not be able to do any of this so thank you thank you thank you. It was a great way to say farewell to Syracuse for a while.  My family was there, my friends were there, and I met hundreds of new friends that I look forward to hanging with really soon. Thank you Syracuse.

It is five days before lift off and I can’t tell you how excited I am about the journey.  This adventure has been a long time coming for me. I met a really cool guy last night that came to the show to check out the tunes.  He told me stories of when he was in his twenties and he packed a bag and hit the road destined for the wide open.  He traveled all across the continent and I could tell by the glow in his eyes that he had found his true self out there on the road.  He gave me some great pointers about traveling, camping, and life.  He said,”be careful in the desert because the desert will burn you, and if it doesn’t burn you it will bite you, and if it doesn’t bite you it will dry you out.”

My mind is as open as the road.  The soul is forever.  We must not let life stall.

I recieved a card from a friend on 5D that pretty much says it all…

live with intention. walk to the edge. listen hard. practice wellness. play with abandon. laugh. choose with no regret. continue to learn. appreciate your friends. do what you love. live as if this is all there is. -Mary Anne Radmacher

Truer words have never been written.