Tuesday, March 25, 2008


Desert. Pure. Desolate. Beautiful.
I spent a week camping in one of the most incredible, most intricate, rawest places in the world. Moab, UT.
I felt like I was in a different world, an alien on a distant planet - out of place. The rocks have personality, the have feelings, they are ominous, and playful. Huge boulders, gaping arches, warm sandstone - wrapped in absolute silence. There are different types of beauty. The beauty of a female form, the beauty in a sunset, the beauty of the ocean. Moab has a very particular beauty. You are in awe of the "out of place" visuals and "not quite right" placement of rocks and aged stone. Some part of you wants is irked by the twisting, manipulated rock.. but another part of you is captivated by the curves, the shadows and the absolute nakedness of the landscape.
The rocks change colors through the day. From gray and blue in the morning, to the absolute brilliant red of the afternoon, your eyes are never confident.
Every second is a mystery, every moment a feast for the senses.

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Snow Covered Mountains

Sking is like breathing - you don't think, you simply move. Like part of the slope, part of the snow, you let yourself become caught in the motion of the moment - letting go of thought and hesitation.
I spent yesterday on the moutains of Telluride. I felt incredible! Totally alive and vibrant. The speed and the cold have their way with you, and you can't help but smile about being alive! :) Riding the lift up, up, up - into the clouds - like a soul entering heaven - there is absolute quite, absolute, dangerous serenity. Surrounded by unparalled beauty, we climb higher and higher until it feels we have reached the absolute top of the world. The snow falling thick, so thick that you can't see the mountains that surround you, all you see is white. I ski to the edge of the run, slide to a stop, and listen to myself breathe... in out, in out.. the rythm of being alive. Other skiers swoosh by like ghosts streaking through a foggy night. I head off down the slope; slow at first then faster.. faster, all I can see is the 10 ft in front of me, and the incredible white of the falling snow. The mountainside stretches downward in a dizzy decent of powder and ice - I am consumed by cold, and the sound of my skis against the snow. Life blurs, my surroundings blur, all that matters fades as my heart thumps in my chest.
I make it down.
Life is good.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Frozen Waterfalls

I climbed through the snow covered mountains of Telluride this morning; the pink, early sunshine was streaming across the snow - silence consumed everything. We headed up a trail out of the city, and began to follow an icy stream coming out of the mountains. I could feel every breathe, see the frost as my lungs exhaled the freezing air. Over boulders, through the forests, my boots crunching through the deep snow. There are certain places on this beautiful earth that remind me about the frailty of humanity - this was one of those places. Just like the deer and mountain lions whose tracks preceeded us - we are real animals, real human animals, just as vunerable and sensitive to the rawness of natural elements. It makes me excited inside to realize this - excited to know I am a part of this world just like them.
We found the waterfall, frozen in an icy glory that can only be described as spectacular. Life is strong and amazing.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

work.. of art

I am facinated by the complexity, the emotion, and the personal creativity that artist pour into their work into their work. We slave over our imagination, we try and create something that will inspire or cause a response - we do all this, and we want it to last forever. At least I do.

I decided to try something different, much like the installation artist, Andy Goldsworthy - the point being art isn't meant to last. I wanted the effort and thought to be the point, not the work itself. This is contrary to how we run our lives, how we want to be remembered - forver. Its hard to put a lot of work into something that won't be around but for a few brief moments, a few fleeting seconds before it is gone! I am starting to think though, that the point of creating anything is mostly for the benefit of the creator. We want praise, addoration, and applause - but perhaps beyond that, deep down, our enjoyment can simply come from creating. I enjoyed every second of the hours it took to create my painting, and maybe that is all that matters.