Written a while ago

Things Fall Away...

I was only a boy; I was impressionable; I greatly desired true acceptance which was never fully given to me except for periodic moments, out of time experience. The more I tried, the more I was embarrassed. I'd study the people who I thought could give me this gift. I sang and danced for their amusement; they hated me, laughed at me, they were determined to create the conditions of my everlasting banishment...

...Things fall away when your not even trying. Things fall away so easily that we have to bring them back, remember our suffering. The more we push things away, the more they become our reality. The more we fight them, the more they devour us. Pain is an illusion, created at the first morn of human consciousness. We love our pain. When it begins to fall away, when we stop fighting it, we are frightened. We fear the nakedness of our banal understanding; we fear the exigency to be nothing. humiliation incarnate.vulnerability incarnate.creativity incarnate.

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The Rio Grande Gorge

The Morphology of Landscape

This weekend I had the chance to bike ride a trail that runs along the East Side of the Rio Grande. On Friday, Sjona and I rode way down into the South Valley, and today I rode way up into the North Valley


The trip was exactly what I needed. I have been so immersed in academia, that I need to realize again what it is I study. Why I study
Geography. A study of landscape. Humans in their landscape
Nature, a prisoner of its landscape.

Humans in the landscape. Are we prisoners?
Humans changing their landscape. Is this an expression of culture? Free will? Our we prisoners of our own devices? Derivatives of a landscape we left behind so long ago?
Don't forget the human spirit...
Human destruction...
Human civilization...
To reach beyond our own prisons...
Into a fairytale. The mysterious path...
The endless labyrinth...
The illusion of freedom...
What is beyond?
a glimpse here or there...
back to reality, the human landscape...
The natural landscape...sort of.
Camel transplants. What is this new landscape to them? Are they overwhelmed with a sense of liberation?
The fabric of human beings. Humans being. Grasping.

Day by day, in real time...
All but a moment...
timeless.



As children we think so much about being grown up. As adults, our pursuit of happiness is a proxy for ceaseless nostalgia...tied up in the landscape, the gatekeeper of childhood, the gatekeeper of mystery, the gatekeeper of death.

The morphology of landscape