My friend Monkey had this incredible idea that he, as purely an artist, and I, as purely a writer, could take turns writing and illustrating stories together, swapping books for books every so often, and seeing where our adventures would send each other. I'm very curious to see what he creates and inspires me to create with this project.
I got my first body damage of the year this past Sunday in Morrison. I know it's horribly juvenile, but I consider these scapes and bruises and rushes of adrenaline merit badges in the lifestyle of a climber.
The extra mild winter has lent itself to beautiful sunsets, t-shirt and short days, and outdoor experiences that simply (and sadly for the global climate) can't be beat.
Today I returned to the park in Morrison after an afternoon of a couple quick boulder problems. It was a gorgeous day. The little Parson Russell I was watching seemed to enjoy the sunlight. I love the sun on a cool day.
Sometimes I wonder if I need to get my head examined. I go back and forth so often. Sometimes I am believing in myself so honestly and truly that I cannot be dissuaded from that belief. The mere thought that I cannot overcome obstacles in my way is funny to me. I am even starting to get anxious as I write this.
Other times, I will be in a deeply reflective mood. I'll be able to sit and write and write about things that may seem trivial but, for whatever reason, impact me so deeply, so very powerfully, that I find myself praying in my head, thanking the omniscent universe in control that my soul happened to be contained in a body that can share so much of it with the outside world.
I often wonder why I go back and forth between these two extremes. I wonder if anyone else in the world does this. I wonder who is watching the sun set and appreciating all of its glory as I am watching it rise and do the same. I consider my purpose, our purpose, the purpose to life and us living it.
Sunrise is only my part of my day. I may be seeing it from a parking lot, but someone may be watching it set, seeing a similar beauty, a transcendent reality, from their hut in the mountains of eastern Europe or their office in a tower in Dubai. They are strangers, not only sharing a reality with their latitude, but sharing a bigger part of it with me.
I can appreciate how much we are connected, even if we don't typically consider what is on the other side of our rising sun. When we can learn to open our eyes to those kinds of possibilities, we step closer to freeing our souls.
I captured this picture of a road less travelled. Where I grew up, it's infamous, known as the road up "Deadhorse Gulch". I'm finding that this picture represents the idea that there are always beautiful places to go, beautiful things to see, but it may not always be a super-highway that leads you there. Chances are, though, if you're looking for the beautiful places, you won't want to be on a highway anyway. You'd miss out.
We go through our lives wondering why we have to go through some of the things we do, and my dad illustrated to me that some of the times when we feel imprisoned, we're actually the most free. Sometimes we are so focused on making sure the car will speed along on the road, we don't realize where the car is. We also don't consider that if we don't focus on keeping the car running, we run the risk of breaking down and getting stuck.
We need to keep moving on this road we are on with diligence and grace, and with the ability to see what's ahead and choose our own path. It seems like it could be complicated, but I suppose it's easier than we lead ourselves to believe.
As I started this entry, one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands came on the radio. Bad Religion's "Sorrow" is just a rad song. It talks about how when people start doing good things, selfless things, there will be sorrow no more. It's totally punk rock, so it's really hard not to let this song put you in a good mood.
My dashboard lights are chillin' as I listen to the tunes. It's delightfully warm here in Denver, and I'm really shocked that it's only supposed to get warmer as the week winds on.
No big plans for the weekend, short a barbeque, a retirement party, and a trip to the homestead. Not all bad, methinks.
While I'm not too scientificly minded when it comes to a great many things, I do happen to be very observant. I have been told I can see things that make people feel as if I've been a good friend of theirs for a long time, an old soul, so to speak.
However, I don't feel like it takes a perceptive individual or scientist to see that it's February 3rd in Colorado, and it was almost 60 degrees today. Where's the snow? Where is the bitter cold? What's going on here?
This trend is (possibly selfishly) disturbing. I say possibly selfishly because, as someone who is not a scientist, I can't begin to tell you what the cause of this change is. One side would say that it is we humans who have polluted our planet to the point of creating our greenhouse. But I also believe in the idea that our planet has rapidly gone through periods of extreme hot and cold all on its own. This being said, I feel selfish in that regardless of how it came to be here, we have the ability to impact this climate change for the better of our own humanity. It could be the first time in history a species (that we know about) has had the technology to save itself from a "natural" phenomenon.
Crazy thoughts from Russell T tonight.
Bart and I had an incredible Super Bowl Sunday... all the way up until the Steelers scored with less than a minute left, but whatever.
We drove from our parents' place north and into the hills. Bart is as competent a driver as I ever was off road. We explored some of the trail system being built near Salida, Colorado. Then we went to check out some of the access to these massive rock formations in the Browns Canyon Wilderness Study Area. It's closely tied to Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area. We drove up Chinaman Gulch and I got schooled driving. Then we looked at 4-wheeling up Carnage Canyon... yeah... right. The sign said 39s and winches mandatory. There was a creepy old guy there. He said to us, "have you ever been up there?" I said no. He said, "oh, fuck!" and then walked up the rocky trail laughing the whole way.
We get back home to a huge buffet of hot wings, egg rolls, quesadillas, eight types of dip for six kinds of chips and a 24-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. So far, it was the best Super Bowl Sunday ever (except for XXXII and XXXIII... go Broncos!).
