Oceans of Land

The desert.

Is stunning, it's mystifying, its completely baffling and inspiring...but I don't think I could ever live there. Not enough green. I found myself most elated when we drove through areas of trees and snow.

The snow.

That's another thing. I think I love it.

But really, the desert. my mind melted to mush. Everything is so VAST, so patterned, so intricate, so simple, so colorful, so beautiful. so breatheable yet breath robbing. such a contradiction.

We are only a small part of a larger whole. Tiny ants.Tinier than elephants.

Just massive rocks hangin out.



What a tree, believe it or not, this was one of my happiest moments of the week.


True story.

 

What the crap cloud shadow.  cloud. shadow. cloud shadow. ah.
 

 Just a hole in the ground. no biggie.
 

The beautiful Colorado River that I will someday kayak in. 



Ofcourse there were some great trees in Zion.

 

Bulbous


SPACE ON A ROCK





Snail.


snowmen ya'll.


we have to appreciate, because we are so minute in the grand scheme of things.

pictures.

I'm leaving tomorrow for a 10 day desert adventure in the New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Nevada area. We're going to see great wodnerlands like Monument Valley, Lake Powell, the Grand Canyon, Zion, and other breathtaking landscapes.

But, I was thinking. When I see these places, I know I'm going to be blown away. I know I'm going to  just loose it, throw up excitement. But, I already sort of know what to expect. I've seen pictures of what I'll soon see in reality. So, what about those eyes who've seen these sites with no precursor. Who stumbled upon these wonders blindly, or only heard about them from words. How amazing, completely, that must be. To have no expectations what so ever. Have we hindered the wholeness and grand potential of our experiences with imagery?

To experience something NEW and FULLY having NO prior knowledge of what it is.
That's something to want.

Though, I know I'm going to ruin it for whoever reads this too. Because I'm going to go picture crazy.


This also reminds me of a revelation I had when I got back from Wyoming two summers ago. I was watching The Last Samurai with my roommates. In the opening scene there are these pans of foggy mountains and it dawned on me that that place is REAL. It's real. It's not just some crazy grand place.. I mean it is, but it also really exists. We see so many images of ridiculous landscapes that we start to get numb to them. We don't even realize the splendor in them. They're just postcard images. Which is another thing.... I've heard people look out at the world and say "It's like a post card" It's so crazy that our references come from man made FIRST and nature SECOND when it should be the other way around. Shouldn't it?

questions.

Fragmented, atlest I think that's the title.

So, I write poems now. I also bought new hiking boots. But mostly this post is about this poem. It is this poem.

Fragmented

Every thing is placed,
resting upon another,
Both forces
pushing.

A book to a shelf.
A shelf to a book.
To the pages, to the shelf, to the floor,
 to the air, to your eyes reading the ink of
the pages
to the book
to the shelf. 

All forced to a halt--
Frozen against one another,
boundried,
never fully touching.

Yet,
Every thing can be broken down,
into smaller and lesser increments.
Not solid,
although they appear to be
impervious.

A hand flipping, grasping the tangible pages.
Pages of particles of a once tree
are molecules, are atoms
are electrons, protons, and neutrons
are broken down forever further.

Yet, our reality does not allow
this to be explored
easily.

I place my foot
atop the cold smooth wood of
the floor
pushes vertically against my warm tired foot.

Every thing is placed,
resting upon another.
My foot, the floor
lie side by side,
like angry lovers.
No permeation.
Forces fighting.
Forever a defense.
A Balance?