Bonnie quotes

Life isn't so bad. I mean, here are a few quotes from Bonnie Gillespie (author of a book I've been reading on-and-off for the past few months) that I think are really valuable with regards to what we're all doing here:

"bring something new to your abilites"
"I'm a firm believer that it's never too late to get started in something you truly believe in" (Denise Winsor)
"only compare yourself to you"
"To me the word 'maybe' means just that: It may be! Not: It may not be"
"There is no virtue in pessimism"
"Friends are not so into results"
"There are two types of people: those who live their dreams, and those who watch others living their dreams and feel resentment and jealousy over the fact that they can't do the same"
"Focus your energy on deep, true friendships that withstand all manner of career checkerboard jumps"
"Sure, dreams come true. But usually, they do so as the result of buttloads of legitimate hard work"
"I had an unquenchable case of wanderlust" (Pam Newlands)
"allow yourself the luxury of acclimating to not only the weather but to the pace of life, the food, the local culture, the traffic, and the currency" (Pam)
"It's all a matter of staying focused and enjoying the journey, wherever it takes you" (Pam)


These are but few. I'll write more later.

our demon

She is a beast with many tails, shining eyes, meticulous stirs, and a thousand mouths of fire. Her skin is full of worms, and long fingers twist over her colorful body. She is smothered in dirt and vegetation. She has pure black blood. Her belly is a maelstrom of watery salt, roiling with currents, tearing through her innards like an unstoppable liquid wind. Beneath her skin boils the fury of an ancient fire, churning in massive bubbles of burning nausea. Across her surface races layers of torrential pressure, shoving moisture up and around in billowing mushrooms of white and grey. Her backbones rip up through the dirt and stagger towering mightily over the flats of her shoulder blades. Heavy snow and ice pelt her silver skeleton, gathering in drifts between her vertebrae. She lies in a breathing silence.
Our demon's body moves slowly as we scramble like blind rats across her skin. With tiny fists, we shake her to waking. As she breaths, we sigh. As she snores, we wonder. As she coughs, we worry. As she vomits, we cry with fear. As she dies, we die.
We are the fair-weathered human race, saddled firm, gripping riding crop and planting leathery chokes. With a wide grin we turn our demon into a freak show, monopolizing her luxurious body for money. We defecate in her mouth and pores.
We spit in her veins. We drill her spine for fresh marrow. We gorge our guts with her fatty flesh. We violate her beautiful body for our pleasures. She suffocates in our soot. She retches in our trash. She cries in our sour rain. We look to live forever while she slowly dies. She is our demon, and she is our only demon.

Piling up

I have been doing a great many things lately, and writing none of them down on here. But never fear, for I am writing them down! I've been keeping a journal of my ideas and notes and thoughts that I'm pretty proud of. Basically, it's a place for me to reopen and explore that creative side that always haunts my late nights and early mornings.
It's funny to me that yesterday I was driving through the deeply gouged Feather River Canyon for miles and miles, gazing into rolling, steep and forested foothills that I had never seen in my life until then. Today I had the pleasure of commanding a raft of seven strangers through the American River canyon, and like being at home I am never done being pleased just watching the waters roll and roll around the rocks and between trees. I think river canyons might be the most magical places I've found yet. There is a mystery and significance looming behind the shadowy cliffs and deep beneath the rocks. Histories for every chipped stone or exploded gully fill my wandering thoughts with the fantasy of lives that could have been.
I enjoy being totally frightened.. and heading into the solid blackness of the unknown. It makes me feel alive. And once you've passed through the great beyonds, you find yourself return and enlightened, a place for which there is no better.

Probably the best feeling a human body is capable of feeling is the "lost and found"
feeling: when you can't find something important until you finally do, and your mind can rest at ease. This manifests itself in so many different ways. I love that feeling.

Now I should go to sleep. Maybe I'll write more about my other outdoors ventures of late, like Yosemite, Tuolomne, Mt. Lassen, Lake Almanor, rafting, romping and the loving of summer. For now I need sleep. Goodnight