Archives for May 2012

A Relentless Rant and Endless Beauty

How do you show contempt for someone in such a satisfying way as not to start hating them? I don’t know, but I’m very angry. For now, I’ve got the the sun-baked shadows in Moab to keep me calm and focused. An air-conditioned hotel reminds me of the lavish excesses of American civilization; I’m tired of the complexity associated with soothsayers, snake oil salesman, and uninformed minions & consumers of American fat.

Why should I fear saying what’s in my heart without reprisal? I don’t fear. It’s no loss of mine to keep my soul and reject the vanities of reckless stupidly. I’m tired of all this deafening excess of fat-eaters with their hollow sophistication. It’s not art, it’s not beauty. They are killing their souls with their greed. Money & greed, and all these pigs make me grieve. What happened to country simplicity? Did it get lost in the translation of money spending? Some people lose their soul to luxury. Culture is not the heart of greed. Rugged individualists never get offended at the thoughtful witty curve balls that pigs can’t stomach. Pigs are those on the receiving end that get offended at every slightest inconvenience or opinion. These things bring disharmony to my life the same way laziness does.

Words are powerful, and my soul sings a hymn against the pigs while they wine and dine in all their filth. Let me be who I am without trying to kill my spirit with your excesses. Let me discover a love so true, for someone who understands me somewhat… and loves me until the day I die. Please, Creator, deliver me from some of these wretched confines. I dream of beauty. I dream of life. I want peace.

The land speaks to me and I cannot expect much from uninformed masses, except to keep teaching those that will listen. For the pigs, I’ll let them be, and I will let myself be reborn. I don’t know how to get away from it, them? If I knew my heart wouldn’t break again and again, I could return to my roots but I am lost, innocent, confused, betrayed because of my kindness. I’m learning that being kind leaves one to be exploited. Lonely are those who are sincere in a charlatan empire.

With faith and hope, the Creator guides me in the desert. In the town of Moab, all things are bustling in the oven of arches, cliffs, cloud and shadow. The beauty is stark and untamed. I just wish I could be as eternal as the geological landscapes and canyons but give me true love for a short while for someone I can trust. An unconditional-untamed love could tame a fiery heart like mine.

Yanny Country: Bluff, Utah…BEWARE!

It’s late at night. The crickets and gas station lights are buzzing into the darkness. There’s hardly any street lights through Bluff. We ate at the Twin Rock Cafe just up the road before sundown and I think the Yannies are out, tonight. Just across the San Juan is the Navajo Rez. I’m staying in the tidy little Kokopelli Inn, writing a few brief thoughts and getting ready to go for a nightly run which feels a little intimidating…

There are ghosts roaming the night. Little people move up the arroyos somewhere out on Cedar Mesa, south of Bluff, busy in their cobweb tunnels. Some lone old bearded man is coming off the mesa into town after passing the rim of the Goosenecks between Bluff and Monument Valley. He can also sense the uneasiness of the night and what hides in the bush beneath the stars.

Crickets buzz, the gas station is burning the darkness like a shining beacon, a light house in a Sandstone sea. There’s barely any traffic up and down the road, maybe a car every 30 minutes on their way to Four Corners and onto Cortez, Colorado. In the little Sinclair station in the belly of Bluff, I’m visiting the two funny Navajo ladies running the register, asking them questions, and just chatting and joking. The buzz of the gas station hums against the eerie night. The neon sign of the from the motel shines into the black, buzzing, and burning away with a Kokopelli playing the flute, but the bright light doesn’t get reach very far into the blackness. The crickets are very loud and the sound is growing, being amplified. It’s like a scene out of a movie. Something out there is moving in the darkness, looking at me and the people in little station.

Most towns in Utah don’t feel like this. Bluff is strange, weird, eerie, comforting, and even unsettling. I’m attracted to the spook of it. It’s an ancient aesthetic and beauty, apart of this rugged little hidden town buried in hoodoos, waterholes, arroyos, cliffs, canyons, toadstools, balancing rocks and the white sandstone that adheres to the sacred Rio San Juan. It’s a river that’s deeply rooted in Navajo folklore, and history. As it snakes around in the goosenecks, in the darkness, off to the South as I write this. I can feel the river, the crickets, the glowing neon.

It’s the middle of May and this is my life. It is beautiful. I’m getting ready to go for a run out in the darkness. Toodaloo! 🙂