First of all, it’s a headframe. Not an oil rig. I arrived in Butte on June 8 around 2 p.m. by way of the Sweetgrass port of entry. It took me a week to unpack my car. Andy by “week” I mean 8-10 days. I’m tired. Exhausted. Feel like I might expire before finishing this piece. And by “expire” I mean die.
I know a couple of people who wouldn’t mind witnessing my death.
Lawsuits will do that. Avoid them. That advice is in the Good Book for good reason. The Author loves us. And by “Good Book” I mean … OK you get it.
Once I was able to leave the apartment, I walked.
Joy! The walking life is the life I love. I’ve been on the road for over two years and while there have been countless blessings hatched by the journey I feel like I could go a decade without getting in a car which is ironic because I thought I might apply for a driving gig at Enterprise while musing about my new life in Butte, America.
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I am Gingerbread Amy. I get booked at parties and events to make a gingerbread house in front of people. It’s Heaven on earth if there ever were such a gig. I have a television show in the works. However, even if I meet a producer I want to work with, I’m not sure I have the energy to carry it. The show is called Fully Baked with Gingerbread Amy & Friends and I hope you get to see it someday. We hope. We pray. We wait. Some producers call it Gingerbread Amy meets Mr. Rogers. Some producers like desperation. We are not desperate.
I have private chefs. You can find them at M&M Bar and Cafe. I’ve got my spot at the counter. I’m there almost every day. Perhaps I’ll get lucky and become a dishwasher for my private chefs. Washing is holy work and if there’s one thing I’m after it’s living a holy life. Our breath is a gift and it ends on an unknown date with or without fanfare.
My artist’s residency provides housing and I get paid once in a blue moon for my stage plays. Yes, I do a lot of creative things! I’m not for everyone, just like Pete Holmes. The Covellite Theatre and Uptown Lounge is my new favorite spot.
Four days in a row I walked. Each day I passed the same bird wing on the sidewalk, wondering how it became detached. On the fifth day, the wind blew the wing about 8 inches east. Who am I kidding? I have no idea which direction the wind blew. I only knew on Day 5, the wing was gone.
While in Canada, I went back and forth on a direction. Here? There? East? West? Inward? Outward? Finally, I took a deep breath of gratitude and chose. As I merged onto the Trans Canada Highway east, I pulled up next to a truck. The driver? My daughter. Her name? Montana.
Gingerbread Amy is makin her summer residency in Butte, sponsored by The Event Space at Athena’s. To learn more about her, go online to GingerbreadAmy.com.