I've heard I'm too serious and take things heavily. I guess I feel that everything is important, so even my enjoyment gets a little heavy. Knowing this, I'm frustrated with all my attempts to numb myself, my tendency to drift outside the present. Then again, I enjoy the sweep and rush of a plan, the tender push of analysis... the brain is also an organ, hooked up with all the rest.


.
















It can be both things.

Fall 2014




Vivisection




It's a fatal desire, the exploration of your own composition.

















Any attempt at understanding love is at its heart an effort to dig up the self.








James River, RVA
201?









Perhaps this desire for an increasingly baroque intensity of physical experience betrays discomfort with thought. I still doubt that wanderings in the halls of the mind will lead toward revelation. I suspect, too, that knowingness can't enter through the senses, but impatience with the speaking mind drives me to veins and muscles.






Manhattan
02.02.17





It's either all about or not at all in the slightest about atmosphere. Is it shallow to live in the senses? Is anything else worth my time?


Life always feels like it's about to start, starts continually
Saying a little prayer of gratitude today that my knees feel so much better than they did five... even four months ago. If I do another thru-hike, I'll prioritize lightness over saving money or avoiding human contact. I ranked those differently last time around, mailing myself fewer resupply boxes and was in town only about once a week... meaning I packed out 7 days of food every damn time, sometimes as many as 9. It seems obvious now, but my body is worth more to me than avoiding conversations or saving a few bucks. How did I not start out knowing that??? Anyway, well on the way to self-actualization over here.


ETA: I miss my trail dirt. I swear I feel way cleaner in a week's worth of trail grime than I do stewing in a week's worth of town juices. (Obviously don't shower more than once a week—what kind of sucker do you take me for?)
Without a camera I feel diminished. The best photo is the next one, right? My heart thrills perennially to images, reminding me I'm meant to do that. I still haven't managed to figure out what to do with them, but that's not the most important thing.





Can't be loved without being known, can't be known without being seen.









MT 2016









I like making rules but I hate to follow them.











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