Should I have stayed home, and thought of here? (2016)

"In late November 2015, I walked north for four-days through the farmlands, forests and canal roads of the Dutch-German border. The walk spanned from the front door of my artist residency accommodations in Enschede, to the lower bunk of a youth hostel dorm in Groningen, a distance of approximately 140km. The wander towards the North Sea coincided with unseasonably cold and wet weather. I spent most of this time trudging along rural highways shrouded in a red cycling poncho, squinting at dyke and polder formations from beneath the dripping hood. My knees may never forgive me. 


I slept rough in primary school stairways and sportsfield stands, an awkward cocoon of sleeping bag wrapped in poncho wrapped in bin bags. I showered in public swimming halls, oozing blister fluids in chlorine waters. One night a farmer let me share his barn with a pair of Icelandic horses, farting in the shadows.


Four days of playing hobo, scribbling clichéd musings on rambles and roads less traveled. There were small epiphanies under big skies. There was chocolate and carrots, potato harvests and rainbows. There were border crossings by moonlight and snow showers at dawn. There was a beaver sighting, and a wild boar, maybe. 

But perhaps I should have stayed home, and thought of there?"