stopping with eyes wide openthe Weather Report

THINGS THAT ARE UNKNOWN

“In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors.”

Ray Manzarek | often attributed to Aldous Huxley

If the doors of perception were cleansed, every thing would appear to man as it is: infinite.

William Blake | The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

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Old Man Lake [from the Dawson-Pitamakan loop trail] in the Dry Creek Valley headwaters, Two Medicine drainage
Glacier-Waterton International Peace Park

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AS THE ROUND EARTH ROLLS

Back on the press, back to the practice and process of making; the Gift of creativity. I say back because it has been a rather challenging and stressful year in this regard. I’ve been unable to give the attention and care to this essential practice in my life. Life had other plans for my attention this year and now I’m in that wonderfully dark night time of year where the stars are bright . . . and here in the intermountain west the nights and mornings invite me out on a cold run in the hills or along the river. Finding a way back to this grand show, this edition arising from the shinning mountains of Glacier-Waterton International Peace Parks . . . and all the beauty of open space that is currently under siege, under development, under disrespect.


This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls”

John Muir | John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir

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Relief Matrix and Flocking from Generosity & The Way Across | Edition #109

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'the blue of the always unpublished sky'

the 68th birthDAY trip . . . ‘my heart went to a church whose location it doesn't know’

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I'm writing on a Sunday, late morning, on a day filled with soft light, on which, above the rooftops of the interrupted city, the blue of the always unpublished sky closes the mysterious existence of stars in oblivion . . .
It's Sunday inside me as well . . . My heart is also going to a church whose location it doesn't know, and it goes dressed in a child's velveteen outfit, with its face red from the first impressions of smiling without sad eyes over its oversized collar.


Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935) | The Book of Disquiet #68 [n.d.; after 1923]

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Sucking Wax

Saturday at the Parsonage is quiet. I did the laundry, took a long run with some hill work covering a good 8 miles, fed the cat, vacuumed the house …. but all along I’ve been thinking about different kinds of food. What comes to mind are summer trips into the backcountry of Glacier-Waterton International Peace Parks. It’s an amazing and generous place with all that rock, water, sky and the weather. It’s food. Not so far distant from oatmeal really. Because, as Ali Akbar Khan said about music, without this I die. AND, it being spring, between a long winter and summer and a lot of soft earth … I’m like Meena the Cat, dreaming of that summer paradise.

“When spring comes, go to the flowers — why keep on sucking wax?” Antonio Machado

Meena the Cat

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seeking interstellar space

As Lent approaches this week I’ve been considering what to give up and what to take on. I’ve often given up all sugars but since I’ve already done this what now …. I’m seeking the interstellar space behind the skin YA). So I’m putting together a practice that I might experience such without LSD. When you get to the base of the trail ascending Siyeh Pass in the Preston Park Valley of Glacier-Waterton International Peace Parks there are some lakes just off-trail. Only a few people venture here, most are en-route up or down the pass. I like to stop here; STOPing. The grizzles like this place. We call these the “O My God” lakes. It’s the absolute end of the valley. A steep glacier cut of newly exposed rock rises before you and this is life beginning, starting right from this rock, water, dirt, sun, snow, sky … the great JOY, and I’ll say that glorious skin that veils ’interstellar space’. The image is a lensless one taken nearby the upper lake looking down Preston Park towards the Going-to-the-Sun access at Siyeh Bend.


“Scrape the surface of language, and you will behold interstellar space and the skin that encloses it.”
Velimir Khlebnikov

O My God Lakes

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