SHOUT
MAGAZINE – DEC. 2005
ARTICLE
BY DAN “KEELER” KAPLE
“[I
was] talking with [the artist] Robert Burridge - me completely exhausted and
spent; sleep deprived & mentally (expletive) up with what art and life had
become to me. He asked "well, what next?" and i told him,
"you know honestly I just want to get in my car and get the hell out of
here."
that was the first I can really
remember verbalizing my intention.”
-Jamie
Carroll, in an email from somewhere in North Dakota
There was a growing sense of restlessness to Jamie Carroll
as last summer began. Despite having a steady job, a close circle of friends,
and an established name for himself in the Boone arts community it was as if
he’d outgrown the town he’d lived in since graduating from college.
Occasionally he would comment to a friend about his desire to leave Boone, as
if to vocalize it were enough. To most of us the idea of dropping everything,
of quitting his job, leaving all his friends and beloved cat “Tate”, of
throwing his essential belongings and his trust into the rusty hatchback of a
barely road-worthy Toyota, to hit the highway alone and with only “west” as a
destination seemed as nothing more than a passing fantasy.
With
just about anyone else it probably would be. Yet those who know him can
confirm, with Jamie nothing is to be unexpected. In the few short years that I
have known him I found him to be capable of both a raucous sense of humor that
teeters on the edge of bad taste, as well as a deeply seated sadness that no
amount of drink or laughter could fully conceal. And it seemed to be this
tension between hope and despair, or a continuous need to relieve it through
art, or drinks or humor, that compelled him to throw caution to the wind, pack
up his car, slough off the burdens of familiarity, and head west.
By
most standards this is where the story should end. But Jamie is an artist (and
a damn good one at that) and he understands better than anyone that the
importance of any undertaking is that it’s significance is not lost. It should
be documented and shared with anyone who would care to learn or be entertained
by it. To this end, he set up Heavyhearts.org, a website and blog that he has
been updating from random points on the map since his departure from Boone on
September 15th.
As
if it stood to offer me proof, it didn’t fully sink in that Jamie had split
town until I saw his first series of posts on his website. As I read his first
entry a strange and unpleasant emotion overtook me- I was jealous! (or at least
envious). Who among us hasn’t thought about hitting the road? Who hasn’t
desired the freedom of wandering across the face of this enormous continent
with no plan in mind, no obligations, no restrictions, with nothing but the
most basic concerns: food, bathroom, blanket? It appeals to the hidden nomad
lurking someplace in the core of our DNA in the same way a campfire draws out
our primal curiosity. Jamie had broken with societal norms. He said “good-bye”
to the comforts he had grown familiar with. He had shelved any preconceived
ideas of what the future might hold, and set off into uncharted territory to
test their validity. Back in Boone, in my comfortable routine, I was both
delighted for him and green with envy.
While
there is no substitute for first hand experience, what Jamie has given us on
Heavyhearts is the next best thing. Like lost postcards written from the cold
dusk of Manitoba and Pembina, it reads with an honesty that can only be found
in extended solitude. You can almost feel yourself there, in a Walmart parking lot, somewhere
in North Dakota, unsure if your rust bucket of a car is going to move even one
more foot, let alone one thousand miles! His blog entries range through the
fullest of human emotions- one minute funny, one minute lonely, one minute
profound and one minute vulgar. Checking for updates has become a preoccupation
for his friends here in Boone. In a sense we are more involved in his life than
he is in ours- a strange disconnected connectedness that makes me forget I’ve only
talked to him a few times since he left town.
Via
his website, we have traveled with him as stowaways through the portal of our
glowing computer monitors. We were there when he wandered unsuspected into the
middle of Octoberfest in Cincinnati:
(“….i had intended to swear off booze and alcohol. go cold
turkey while on the road. but well, randomly getting lost and ending up in the
middle of OKTOBERFEST? hmmm...seems kind of fishy, don't it” ).
We were
there when he met the cute coffee shop waitress in St. Louis:
(“one guy who
unmistakably had the hots for her, wrote this in her book, which she read aloud
as he ran out of the coffee shop-"you make my pants fit funny.")
And we were there when he tried, and failed to gain
admittance into Canada:
(“well, i don't like your car
and you don't seem to know how long you are going to be here? well if i'm, ALLOWED ENTRY, then
definitely tonite and then 1 or 2 more days. i already said this. ok. well, i need you to sign
this form. take it over there and they'll let you thru.
i read the form...
"I HEREBY, RELINQUISH MY RIGHTS TO TRAVEL WITHIN CANADA AND MUST
IMMEDIATELY RETURN TO THE UNITED STATES...")
Above
all, however, one entry made a lasting impression on me, so much so that I
re-read it several times over the course of one evening to let the ideas sink
in fully. Simply put, it was his explanation for choosing to undertake such an
arduous and potentially dangerous trip. More profoundly though, it spoke to me
about my own life, and about the options, choices and risks that I have before
me.
The
entry read:
(“some of you know the actual
condition of my car and the risks i'm taking and have taken before i departed
on this trip. to this point, i've mainly made light of the situation for my own
sanity; as well as those that care about me. i do understand the real mortal
dangers involved with what i am doing; and i'm talking more than just about
driving this car. these things do weigh heavy on my mind and heart.
"so why do it?" put yourself in my shoes and ask yourself the same question. (to
expand...) "why quit my job and abandon, at the very least, a
comfortable life? why leave town? why say goodbye to close friends and family?
why set out on the road with a not-so-safe car that may get nowhere, or worse;
with little security; little money; and no plan or destination?" and your answer?
there is an infinite number of reasons why i've chosen to do this; but it all
boils down to a simple truth - i know in my heart that i have to; not only
for my future; but for the futures of all those who are, and will be, in my
life.
(furthermore...) take all those things you've always dreamed of; yet, never
imagined you'd do; no matter how big or small. now, think about all the reasons
and excuses why those dreams have not come true - the work, the risks, the
consequences, logic, perception... "intelligence alone... strives to
stifle the underlying demands of the human heart." - albert camus, the myth of
sisyphus and other essays
there will always be a reason. and there will always be someone to tell you
you're wrong; what you're doing is wrong. but, it is all trivial in the end.
do you want to look back and say your life was filled with excuses? or your
dreams? your answer?
i am taking risks in order to achieve those things i've dreamed of; yet, never
imagined i'd do; no matter how big or small; and in spite of all the excuses. "for
what is anything worth... if you don't put yourself at stake in whatever you
choose to do." - filippa naslund.”)
Thank you Jamie. I’ll try to
remember this.