The New Error of Communication

  Across this planet we find ourselves on, it is an error not to recognize the new era of communication.  This however is only a small part of communication as a whole.  And to miss the underlying current of what is being said for the roar of burning coal strip mines and power lined towers connecting what is already connected is also a mistake. 

                                                                       photo by Adina F



  Having lived and travelled w/ no cell phone for over two years and periods of no email these two realities are facing me every time the ears hear the familiar noise of someone yelling through a phone to someone far away, or see the anxious fingers pounding out messages in secret.  Meanwhile the faces in front of me seem to be more and more distant, distracted by the memory or hope of another answer to another question pulsing across the airwaves.  All this talk is starting to unnravel our brains.  Debate, rhetoric,  and explanation find themselves tired of being misused and the planet is sorely missing soft feet upon its meadows, trodden instead upon the processed oil, paved over green grass, cut down Forest, and damned rivers. The era of convenience is at an end and desperately grasping to hold onto the few last wires of perceived connectivity we stand upon the rubble of our desperate and brave attempt to connect faster and more efficiently.  We are tearing ourselves apart by attempting to be more connected.

  The eyes of those around are following the paths of distraction and do not aften meet each other, their weak, guilty stares cannot take the meeting of another set of seeing balls inside the empty skulls of flaming burning consuming desire to chase after what is already in front of them.

The Bigger Chill

The dawn broke, or rather put together...yes the dawn put together another beautiful sunrise and woke me from my sleep. actually it was the sun's energy that made it happen. the grey in the sky told me it was somewhere near time to awake, and the the ice in my beard told me I was still breathing, though the temperature existed at 10 below Fahrenheit. Very toastier and happy, I smiled at he stars. Though the toes were a bit cool, it made me chill out and appreciate they were not frozen as had happened before. no wind, no noise, and the dawn was speaking. speaking a feeling, speaking a million good thougths to the birds, to the trees, and to me. all I had to do was listen, and at this moment it was the most possible, because it was the most peaceful.

The oldest traditions are very simple. Eating together is something that has been done together since the dawn of human history, bringing together family, and creating a sharing place of community. working from a headache, it seems that the cranium crushing power of fear could do some damage. but reality is no farther than a deep breath, comfort no farther than enjoying and accepting this one moment for exactly what it is: the only one we have. looking at the sunrise this morning I was struck by how often I ignore it or take it for granted. So every day I hope everyone can look at everything around them, and be ever so thankful for it all. take a moment today to see something in a different way.

For some months I have been off air. now I am back after 13,000 more miles on the road, and hard at work into new material. Inspired by new experiences. Glad to be back.

the quote of a lifetimes journey

"the greatest tradgedy in life is that the people who dont know how to love, do it better than those who think they do"

the dirt dimes in light

Evidence is gone, in the red dirt wind,



shifting into a pile of mud in the river,



shadowed by the dust of another generations broken and shattered ships run a-land.


















Eaten, eden, even, eleven, even more and seven floor interpritations. All cast away, all driven down, all cast aside for another time, one of food and dep red wine. A mistake grown in the fields of love, over tenderly placed above the others, now fallen far below their brothers deep in shame, lost in what all would call fame. This is the majority gain, be popular and you will have it all, but lost it all is, thinking of having and holding but owning nothing, only a few of the poorest in life see this bluffing.

finally the sun sets, the dark swollows the light...but wait, now the lights powered by burning coal, damned, yes damned rivers once mighty canyons free, and finally by wind stealing the breath of mother earth to light the famous and rich. Forgetting the rest in their time of need. Buning the energy that is needed for the many to glorify the few, oh what the hell did we do? look around, you will see it too.

Sand, Wind, Time, and Alot of Water (an adventure)

The wind reached 35mph at 3am. the small tents stuck in the sand were pinnacles of darkness in the night of rain and wind. at about 5am the wind finally calmed a bit and the cold front had passed. this is the beginning of day 4, sea kyaking, on Lake Powell, in the Glen Canyon, Utah.




Spring break usually involves some
kind of beach party, tons of alcohol, drugs, and a general attitude of getting wild. For some however, spring break is a chance to break out and spring from the usual and fund the extraordinary in the wild. this group of 9 from Western State College headed for the amazing Glen Canyon.








It was clear from the beginning that this was no ordinary trip. The water, unlike paddling a river, were coming from all directions as did the wind. on day two we caught some large and imposing waves, by day three there were waves 2 feet high out on the water, and we chose not to paddle. that night it was clear that the weather was bad as many times we awoke to the thunderous flapping of our tents in the wind and rain. However the wind blew itself out by 5 or 6am and it turned in to one of the best days of paddling we had; followed by two more in a row.








Our camp for two nights was an arm of the canyon uncovered by the low water levels apparent in the white walls extending 30-60 feet above the waves. the sunset was really something to see.

















The night passed quietly and on Wednesday morning we went on our way up Iceberg Canyon.



The name fit well as we found while paddling the 3 miles in. The walls were white and had the look of ice in its final stages of melting into red sand and water. The Second curve brought it to an over hang and possible cave, though the sea kyaks would not fit all the way back.



Then I saw a truly amazing and slightly eerie sight. Cottonwood trees that must have once stood hundreds of feet tall, now drowned in the water and merely peeking out into the late afternoon canyon sun. As I paddled into the grove of trees they seemed to be mourning their former glory. Then I saw what they really had to say, and they spoke for themselves, as I looked back down the canyon.
















The day ended a bit early and we had time for exploring more of the camp site area. there were some great rolling sand stone, and climbable cliffs to the north of camp. so naturally we headed for them.

After exploring as high as we could go on the small rolling ridge we went to explore the bouldering opportunities near camp. naturally they were epic.

(Photo by Jackson C.)

As was also epic the view back north where we had paddled from, and the next day were returning to.

The final day brought us to the dock, yet only after one more night out, and some pretty strong wind and 2 foot waves.

the whole trip was toatally worth the time and was tons of fun. I love paddling instead of motoring. Paddling is like to walking on a nature trail instead of driving in a clustered city. I would never want to leave the first two, and could live a lifetime withou the other.