Tag Archives: Travel Memoir

One Year Anniversary

colombiavenezuela 158 by bani amorThat’s supposed to say 600+ but whatevs!

It’s All Happening

hey kids,

it’s all happening. if you haven’t seen almost famous, you’ve missed the ref. (and what’s up with you anyway? go see almost famous!) this past weekend i made a TON of headway in the Zine World and should be done this week, but y’all know i’ve been making that promise since december (major thanks to all the folks who’ve ordered and been super patient.)

basically, and this’ll make sense to other (newbie) zine writers out there, it took me so long to get the layout in order ’cause i’m shitty with numbers and all that stuff, and when i finally had the cash to get the base mother copy copied, the dude flipped the pages around and messed up the layout. also, part of my typewriter was melted in a house fire, so using it became an EXTREME pain in the ass, and that’s in addition to all the other analog issues it already has. again, other typewriter users will know what i’m sayin’.

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so, started from scratch, using my photocopied images, some new ones, vellum, contact paper, graph paper and copies of sketches. i made (er, am making) the mother copy as it would appear in it’s final form, then will lay it out on pages for photocopy time. either zinemaking is more difficult than others seem to lead on or, i’m a dumbass.

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i’ve taken out a lot of stuff, added in new stories and am trying to make it a good looking read overall. so if you haven’t ordered, please do! you can skim the Freestyle section of this site to get a feel for the kinda stories the zine carries. if $10 is too much for you, we can work out a reduced rate with trade, or just a reduced rate. i’m into all sorts of exchanges. free shipping to anywhere in the world!

it’s very exciting to see this thing finally being born, like for reals this time.

New Article on Viator

Alausi
Hey kids,thanks to the over 500 folks who follow this thing. i’m all packed and moving to the coast, if all goes well with my Ecuadorian citizenship. cross your fingers for me. here’s my latest article on Viator’s Travel Blog – Ecuador: South America’s New Adventure Capital.

Mindo, Ecuador

Went on a ‘work vacation’ to the cloud forest to clear my head and get a ton of writing done. Instead, the village was flooded by perpetual storms with almost 100 people evacuated and rolling power outages. Also, I left my bank card back home and had to have cash wired to me. When it finally was, I got word that my cat was sick and had to rush back to the city and deal. Anyway, I got stoned and wrote the following, ’cause there wasn’t much else to do. Happy full moon!

Mindo

The way the rain falls straight down: like bullets, like millions of beads rolling toward an indeterminate horizon; brushing the cloud forest canopy – windless – a vertical current. You could smell the wet.

I love looking out of my hotel room doors and writing, with blonde strands of light shooting through the stained glass at dusk.

Lost in Quito

Got lost in the Centro Historico – the Old Town – riding past crumbly colored houses stacked on hillsides, smushed breathlessly with a million other Quitenos on the bus. Accepting that I had no idea where I was, I tried to get off, but the doors shut sooner than I could finish climbing my way through the forest of thick sweaty limbs tangled together in the limbo between stops, reaching for steel poles and gasping for air. I got out at the next stop and walked who-knows-where – along a busy road strangling a vacant mountain – no people around except for in cars. Reminded me of long stretches of roads all over the U.S. with sidewalks unwalked on for ages – 15 miles to the next stoplight, islands of forest breaking up the homes from the roads – except that walking along the road in Quito I saw some abandoned building in the valley to my right; nothing really keeping me from the fall. About three walls survived whatever destroyed everything else – reddish, sandy pillars cascading in linear ruins overgrown with a wild green, hugged by a frothy river. The road curved to a bus stop and I waited there in the sun. Tons of buses passed by, men swinging by their open doors shouting destinations like superfast spoken word poems –Chillogallo Quitumbe Eugenio Espejo La Mayorista El Trebol todo el Colon; they stop and start with the coming and going of clients leaving great black clouds and whirlwinds of dust in their wake, all of Quito a terminal, the following stops all foreign; titles of books not yet read.

Making of a Zine

Organized chaos?

Everywhere All The Time #1 is a radical travel zine featuring tons of color photos, sketches and writings from all ova the place, wrapped in a vellum cover and completely typewritten on my Remington Streamliner. Click on the ‘read the zine’ button to pre-order for $5 now and get free shipping; remember I’m sending this shit from Ecuador!

More on what the heck ‘radical travel’ is…to come!

Bus Terminal Freestyle

I stood guard over Rocio’s pack and stared at the stuff being sold at the stands across the phone booths: long plastic bags stacked with small apples hanging from mysterious corners like appendages, lollipops of every color, fresh empanadas, bread wrapped in brown paper bags stained with margarine. An indigenous woman with two long braids sat on a stool between the stands and stared nowhere. Rocio said the call didn’t go through and I played with a tiny white puppy for a few minutes, I think. Who knows? Time flies when you’re playing with tiny white puppies at the bus terminal.
To the West, dark clouds hung low over the peaks, full of storm. To the East, the sun shown in a light blue sky and fluffy white clouds stuck onto it like balls of cotton. How could the sky fit all this contrasting madness? I hurt my neck checking it all out. This is Quito.
New York, NY by bani amor
So, an eleven hour bus ride. Rocio took the window seat and fell asleep. It took awhile escaping the city for it to transform into country – cows grazing on steep mountains, indigenous women sitting on stoops with green or black fedora hats, flowing blue velvet skirts and their faces in their palms. A deaf black man got on the bus and handed out little pieces of paper that read “there is no work for people like me.” I gave him fifty cents and he gave me tons of tamarind favored candy – hard on the outside with a soft, chewy center. I felt like they were the symbol of something foul. I felt guilty. I ate them all.