“I need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on.” ~ Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation
The feature photos the past three days are from the Great Sand Dunes National Park, up in the northern end of the San Luis Vally, up in Colorado. The valley begins down here in Taos. The valley is known to be a place that has one of the highest incidence of paranormal activity in this country. There were still a couple of cattle mutilations right around when I first moved here, in 1994. In this blog links are highlighted in red. Click on it, it’s very interesting. The Taos District Attorney investigating a cattle mutilation in Tres Ritos.Wow. Anyway, I was just thinking this morning that I have yet to see a UFO here . . . no, wait! I did. Back about 7-8 years ago they were having a UFO convention up in Angel Fire. While that was underway I witnessed, on lunch hour from the natural foods store, a formation of maybe 6-7 bright spheres doing geometrical maneuvers up over the Sacred Mountain. No shit! It is up there on my personal high strangeness chart. But, moving forward, I have little time to write this morning, so I am going to step out on the deck, like I did yesterday, to catch a look at the stars while nautical twilight still allows. GON OUT. BACKSON. BISY. BACKSON. K.E.
Back now. It’s what I call Lavender Hour, when the hues of first light cast lavender on everything in sight. Just before I came back inside a small flock of unidentified songbirds flew in and perched nearby, chattering and singing. Then I heard them fade off in flight. Smack in the middle of the avian chorale came a brief call from a meadowlark. A lucky man am I. Good boy. I say “good boy” because I am having a little cross-time perception these days. I’m connected consciously to my 12 year old self, who took a huge ego and heart blow when betrayed and scorned by kids I thought were close friends. That 12 year old me was devastated. He decided that he would never succeed again. Now I have to do something about that. The notion that memories are notably inaccurate in retrospect is somewhat of a misleading notion. The inaccuracy is secondary to the idea that the inaccuracy can also be viewed as fluidity. Fluidity can definitely have a purpose beyond simply making you feel conceptually woozy. Fluidity can be framed as a tool in healing stark wounds from the past. I still carry that wound and I still feel that success is out of reach at the best of times. Yeh, I have to do something about that. See, I had a damaging blow recently and it tripped me into a depressive down cycle for over a week now. The opening photo of the sand dunes holds a clue as to what it takes to climb out of a major down like this. Ya ever try to hike up the slope of a huge dune? Go see the Great Sand Dunes National Park and take a hike. The term “trudge” comes to mind. Which is what I’ve got to do right now. It’s the only way I have to get to work today. Onward, tally ho, and all that happy horseshit. Yup, the depression has morphed, through effort, into some low-grade anger. Depression is anger turned inward. Did ya know that? Yeh, it is. The opening quote BTW is from the woman who wrote Prozac Nation. I consider her to be a sister; her book meant that much to me. Yeh, I was on Prozac for about six months when I first moved here. The drug help me get a grip, but the book is what turned me around. Someone else had been there, and she happened to be a great journalist. Lucky me.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.