Browse by:

sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul

time. a precious {nonrenewable} resource, a baffling {social + global} construct, perhaps the thing we waste the most of {and that’s saying a lot}. why? and what exactly are we allowing to cannibalize it? {something that’s always fascinated me + one of the things meditation brings to mind time and again.} how can mere minutes…

walking among giants

we walk amongst the giants, that we may never lose sight of our relative importance. the undisciplined tongue adventureartartistblack and whiteblogbloggerbnwcoloradodenverdenver blogfreedominspirationinspirational quoteslifelightlovemountainsnatureoutdoorsphotographythoughtstraveltruthwomenwriting

untainted by man

there is no adequate way to describe what it feels like to summit.  to push yourself harder than you think possible.  to see the world from a place most never will.  to drink in air untainted by man.  to hear total and utter silence.  ah, yes, words are inadequate. mt. belford, 14, 203′ and mt.…

the edge

the line, the tightrope, the razor’s edge. whatever you call it, we’re all walking it. between hopefulness and the absurd, confidence and arrogance, compassion and self-righteousness, freedom and the ego, awareness and judgment. most of the time i can’t even tell which side i’m on. or if there are even sides? or lines? and if…

in other words // hope

“i’m soft, i dream too. i let myself dream… it could happen. i’m ready. i’ve watched snails climb over ten foot walls and vanish.” -bukowski, “on the continent” the undisciplined tongue blogbukowskicoloradodenverdreamsgoalshopenaturephotographypoetryquoteswomenwriting

love my lens // baby

on wednesday, after a mere 20 inches of snow blanketed denver in the most glorious way, the storm broke, and as if by some deep and primal calling, we all emerged from our warm cocoons and into the wilds.  i took out one of my all time favorite camera accessories: my lensbaby.  true love. the…

you remember records

the snow swirls, the tea steeps, and i’m wrapped in the cozy sounds of sinatra’s velvety croons emanating from my grandparents’ vinyl.  i close my eyes and conjure up the joy of their 5 o’clock ritual.  of husbands and wives and sisters and brothers gathered together and celebrating life.  scotch splashing, ice cubes tinkling, as…