How did wandering the continent become your way of life?There was definitely one moment where it dawned on me what I was going to do. I was working on an island off the coast of New Hampshire. Me and a friend of mine, who is a Sufi now, were meditating on the rocks by the ocean and I just thought, “I’m weird, this is weird. I’m not going to get a job. I’m just not going to do that normal life. And I’m going to go as far in this direction as I can and see what happens. That resulted in a whole bunch of us moving to Seattle. We were selling our blood. It was very nitty-gritty kind of stuff. And I thought, “Well, I’m just gonna keep going in this direction until I hit rock bottom.”
 
Is there a subculture of nomads of which we’re unaware?
It’s so hard to say with the Internet these days because we’re aware of everything. When I first went on the road I must have had a cell phone, but it didn’t do anything. The Internet killed the road. Kerouac’s On the Road doesn’t exist anymore. You’re out there and you’ve got GPS and Instagram and Facebook. You’re never alone out there or completely in that space. So at the time, I think I just wanted to see everything.
 
Would you say that you had maybe an abstract sense of progressing toward something?
Early on, definitely. I thought, I’m just going to be an artist, and whatever came or went from that was just part of it. When I left Belgrade I flew to New York and my buddy in Bushwick invited me to sleep on his couch, and then I moved into his closet, and then got a job two weeks later driving trucks for commercials. And I was just here.