There's something that is always comforting about spending time in your hometown. This is the place my family and oldest friends are, where people still call me Rusty and refer to me as Rod & Cheri's kid or Bart or Emma's brother. It's comfy. It's cozy. It's home, and I'll always have a part of it with me.
I snapped this shot of I-70 just east of Georgetown, Colorado. It, to me, was a beautiful contrast of the mountains that I have come to admire, almost worship, and a super-highway slicing through it, humanity asserting it's position in this world in one of the only ways it knows how. To me, these roads are like friends, friends that keep me safe while I visit loved ones and do things I'm passionate about. I love the road for what it is, yet relish the day when roads will no longer be needed.
Nothing beats a night indoors with a great friend. It's great to shower, shave, eat hearty, wash your feet, and enjoy pajamas in a consequence free environment.
Moab is coming soon. Gotta love it.
Saturday night I went with friends to see the Sounds of the Rockies perform at the University of Denver's Newman Center. It was an all men's choir that broke off into several quartet's throughout the evening. It was an amazing evening in a beautiful space, and, for a second, I felt like I was one of Denver's elete.
Tonight I'm volunteering to host for a few homeless families through a Denver program called Inter-faith Hospitality Network. Churches around the metro area take turns housing and feeding families in need, and I feel compelled to do my part here. In a way, I can relate, but in more ways, I can't. I don't need to be living my lifestyle. I don't need to have my struggles. I choose them. They haven't chosen me.
More and more people seem to have been falling into the grip of desparity from the economic fallout, a fallout from the undereducation of those people who took and gave loans... and now the masses are hurting. We are all hurting, but we all have the power to change it. We have voices, and we have the right to choose. We are tied together, and together, we will survive.
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.
