{"id":48638,"date":"2026-04-05T06:49:31","date_gmt":"2026-04-05T06:49:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/technotink.net\/chronicles\/?p=48638"},"modified":"2026-04-06T16:52:06","modified_gmt":"2026-04-06T16:52:06","slug":"04-04-11-joan-of-arc-and-the-road-ahead","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/technotink.net\/chronicles\/04-04-11-joan-of-arc-and-the-road-ahead\/","title":{"rendered":"04.04.11: Joan of Arc and the Road Ahead"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Day 4<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Monday, April 4, 2011
Colorado Springs, Colorado<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Monday, April 4, 2011, arrived with the quiet awareness that time was running short. I awoke knowing that these were among my final days working at the Curation Facility at Fort Carson. The routine that had grounded me for years was nearing its end. My morning felt both ordinary and symbolic. Chai. Preparing for work. Driving familiar roads that soon would no longer be part of my daily life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I arrived at the facility, my desk reflected the transition. Stacks of paperwork. Final documentation. Procedures to wrap up. Notes to leave behind for those who would continue the work after my departure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Curation work always carried a sense of stewardship. Preserving the past. Documenting artifacts. Protecting stories embedded in objects. It struck me that, in a way, I was stepping away from preserving history to become part of one. My own life was shifting from cataloging stories to living one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The day passed quickly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Conversations with coworkers carried a different tone now. There were well-wishes, curiosity, and a shared sense that something significant was happening. I was not simply taking time off. I was stepping into an adventure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By the end of the workday, I gathered my things and left the facility, aware that my time there was nearly finished. The familiar parking lot, the building, the routines, all felt like pages turning in a chapter closing behind me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That evening, I met up with my extended family, Allison, and Astranna.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Astranna’s History \/ Important People in History School Fair – April 4, 2011. Colorado Springs, Colorado, USA. (c) 2011 – photography by Thomas Baurley, technogypsie.net.<\/sub><\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

We headed to Astranna\u2019s school for her History Fair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It turned out to be one of those moments that felt unexpectedly meaningful. Astranna had created an incredible presentation about Joan of Arc. She stood proudly beside her display, wearing armor she had assembled to represent the legendary heroine. The symbolism was powerful. A young girl embodying courage, conviction, and the willingness to follow a calling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I found myself deeply moved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Joan of Arc had followed visions. She had stepped into a role larger than herself. She had trusted something beyond ordinary explanation. Standing there watching Astranna present her project, I could not help but see parallels to my own journey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In my own way, I was preparing to follow a calling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Astranna\u2019s choice of Joan of Arc felt fitting. Here was youth exploring history, stepping into the identity of a legendary figure. At the same time, I was preparing to step into my own historical narrative. Soon, I would travel to Australia, follow the footsteps of Captain James Cook, and board a replica of the HMB Endeavour. There was a sense of role-playing in that journey, but also something deeper. I was not just reenacting history. I was experiencing it, walking into the same landscapes, crossing the same seas, and touching the echoes of exploration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Watching Astranna that evening, dressed in armor and speaking about Joan of Arc, felt like a quiet blessing for the journey ahead.<\/p>\n\n\n

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<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The night carried a warm family energy. We moved through the school halls, examining other presentations, talking with teachers, and sharing in the excitement of the event. There was laughter, pride, and a sense of belonging.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At times, it felt like parenting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a strange but meaningful way, Astranna felt like a daughter. Over the years, our connection had grown naturally. We spent time together, shared experiences, and built trust. That evening reinforced that bond. Standing there supporting her, feeling pride in her accomplishments, I experienced a sense of family that extended beyond biology.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the History Fair, we went to dinner together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was one of those simple yet meaningful evenings. Conversation flowed easily. Travel plans were discussed. Final packing details were reviewed. There was excitement, but also a quiet emotional undercurrent. We all knew that this time together was nearing a pause.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By that point, I was fully packed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The logistics of travel were largely in place. Flights confirmed. Plans forming. The unknown still loomed, but the foundation was set.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The adventure was no longer abstract.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the evening came to a close, I felt the familiar blend of emotions. Anticipation. Gratitude. Uncertainty. Excitement. A sense that something meaningful was unfolding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Monday, April 4, 2011, became another stepping stone on the road to departure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The call of distant shores grew louder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the adventure was now unmistakably afoot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n