Chicago to Shelby, Montana

tah tah chicago.

28.12.07
On the train, no sketchbook is needed because all that’s surrounding me now is white snow. The city is behind me. The page would be a blank one, witch a few shadows from trees standing alone in the desert of snow. Snow is super beautiful when you realize you’re running from it.
I guess all you can do on the train is eat, so everyone has started doing that.
We are in Wisconsin, it is a winter wonderland and I’m listening to Bob Dylan. His words are beautiful. He’s my favorite American poet.

29.12.07
Note to self: never order soup on the train, it’ll end up on your lap.
More is happening inside the train than outside. We’ve now reached a town; Malta, Montana. Really, they’re in the middle of nowhere out here. American flags blowing in the wind, broken down junker cars, and a store whose sign reads “Family Matters”, that’s a small town on the Empire State Builder Line.
Big Sky Country of land and cattle.
I have been sitting in the lounge car since midday and the sun has been blinding me ever since. It’s awesome. “One hit” by the Rolling Stones is making me want to dance in my cowboy boots and drink whiskey.
I see mountains in the distance. The sun never stops shining here, and the land goes on forever.
It’s so empty.