Intro

Welcome to a story, or stories I should say. A compilation of adventure tales. An ongoing itch to see, smell, and touch the world, or at least the deserted roads and rarely trampled mountains of America. Characters within the descriptive paragraphs of these stories carve out the coming and going companions in life; vital life people and pieces that parallel a universe for moments, days, years. And then spear off, leaving granules of magnificent memories of magical places. They leave a lasting trace, a gained sense of courage to stand tall on oxygen deprived mountains and shout absurdities like: I love you Ralph! Ralph is a teenage reindeer stuffed of the finest synthetic polyester fiber poof; he says made in Indonesia but really tells me he is from the North Pole. Delivered through a chimney one December night 20 years ago, we instantly became cuddle buddies upon that morning's sunrise. He is the instigator. The inspiration. And the imagination. He breathes creativity. Laughter. His is a dear companion. And yes, at 4lbs he tags along atop a pack or strapped to a rack. In delirium of 107 degree heat, the small possession of material belongings gain a persona. Innate objects become friends of the road and trails. And as for the humans who accompany, their presence reads priceless. Without O'Reilly, a 29 year old New Hampshirian with superior taste buds, the mathematical six foot four inch tall German, or handful of organic peanut butter and 99 cent jam eating munchkins, there would be a lot less excitement. The encounters we make with our specie, encapsulating the world with their awkward ways and over consumerist love, somehow we have managed to become overly adored creatures. Their generous hearts restore a faith that goodness prevails in the upheaval of a sometimes lost humanity. As for myself, I'm just the navigator, paddling up the stream of life munching on Clif Bars, with an iPhone documenting the frailties and goodies underneath all the simplified complexities in the world we reside. So again, I welcome you to get lost and dream a little through this typed text and your imagination. My name is Kristen Gentilucci. I live in Berkeley California and I love dogs.


Monday, July 30, 2012

Day 42. Down goes the house

Build Day Amarillo Texas.

Armarillo Texas. A town plagued by the Disneyland of steaks and cheap cowboy boots. Fast food cement sprawl that went on farther then the horizon. A seemingly soulless town, an anywhere city, an urban planners nightmare with streets intercepting with no common sense rhythm or reason. I want to say more, but after watching lean and mean Josh stuff himself full of 59 oz of corn fed American beef last night and fail because the clock struck 60 minutes with only 11 oz left on his plate, I can only cringe and pray there is a cow heaven where they bathe in 75 degree sunlight on green grassy knolls all day.

Amarillo is a city of diversity, with the local elementary school speaking a variety of 93 languages. Such potential for a cultural awesomeness, but instead I found every chain store and fast food joint imaginable. Refugees, immigrants, hard working families in search of the American dream flock to this town nestled in the heart of Tyson meat packing plant and other slaughter, fed, and meat packaging factories to find work of shipping your furry dinner around the country.

Today we did not build, but tore apart a house to its bare bones. 33 people, 7 hours, and that house was gutted down to the smell of old cigarettes. A foreclosed house to be revamped into one mans dream home to raise his kids and family. He was a Burma refugee struggling to find a better life for his family. I guess even in the worst feed lot America could produce nothing compares to some of the stories he would share.