how to put into words the things, the people, the places that pump the heart-blood? how to make those symbols go down easy, hit hard, lift up? how to lay it bare without thoughts of rejection and judgment and ridicule? how not to be afraid? how to bring to light the complexities of an honestContinue reading “landscapes {of the human heart}”
Tag Archives: nature
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 minutesContinue reading “sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul”
in other words // sweet solitude
“when i stood alone on the gentle swell of the prairies in my youth and felt the sting or caress of the wind and held my head to the skies and breathed the hope of the blue and white and gold of the freedom above the horizon i was less alone than i have everContinue reading “in other words // sweet solitude”
everything flows // age of aquarius
“sometimes i go about pitying myself, and all the while i am being carried on great winds across the sky.” -the lakota sioux amidst the afterglow of the holidays and the promise of my january birthday, i spend a lot of time ruminating. and gallivanting. ruminating and gallivanting – both inside and out. takingContinue reading “everything flows // age of aquarius”
walking among giants
we walk amongst the giants, that we may never lose sight of our relative importance. the undisciplined tongue
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.Continue reading “untainted by man”
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
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. theContinue reading “love my lens // baby”
the hunger
fierce is the longing for my home place, an intangible ache marrow-deep. shaped by her fields and her bayous, her mysteries and misfits and beasts. borne of her soil, married to her seasons, my rhythms shift and change in her absence. her likeness haunts me, ablaze in the kaleidoscope of colors at sundown or the songContinue reading “the hunger”
freedom
i’ve always marveled at birds on a wire. envious how they float just above this rational world. do they mourn our cluttered lives? are they saddened by our cages? outraged at our tail-chasing? the undisciplined tongue