blue

Some of friends are sad and lost and far away. I only get to see them in lenses and in my imagination and in songs and scents that remind me of them.

Keep hope.

[a day]

This post is for Becky, who reminded me that there is a reason to write.

It seems that I haven’t written here in a long while. I think that the reason for that is that I haven’t felt as though my life is interesting since I left the road. I’ve been back in the same college town I was in before, and I lust for the road with unquenchable thirst. That part of me is locked up for now, not seeing things. That part of me will have to wait for now.

I feel that there are some things that I may have forgotten to mention in previous updates; fragments of experience that were relevant and have changed the currency of my world.

For one, the car I drove back from Wyoming was apparently in enough disrepair from the elk that I probably forgot to mention hitting that my insurance company claimed it as “totaled” and paid me only enough money for me to lose about 2k on it. However, after much moving of money and conversation with my parents, they agreed to help me pay for a much more reliable 2006 Honda CRV, which is my current mode of long-distance transportation.

More recent events include my decision of my future degree, which will be that of Anthropology and Drawing. As much as I adore the Photography program here, it is simply too expensive for any use to me, and drawing is cheaper and one of my other artistic passions. Also, I am enjoying my time in Athens far more than I was last year, and I am glad. And I’m learning Russian.

One thing has been bothering me very much of late, and that is the infrequency at which I click the shutter button on my camera. I purchased much camera equipment, but have not given myself up to using it enough.

I promise to update more often.

Day 88: (A means to an end)

I’m a day away from being home. I’ve travelled over fifteen thousand miles on this trip, and I’m almost home. No more mountains. No more cool northern breezes. No more Lake Lodge. No more bison.

It’s so odd. I really feel like I’ve left a part of myself behind up there. I don’t know if it’s for the better or not, not just yet, but I do feel a part of myself that’s changed. Being in that environment up there, the melting pot of the world; its effect is astounding. I’ve left behind many friendships, many memories that live on only in writing and in photographs. The problem is, it’s difficult to relive what we all experienced there in memories. One doesn’t feel as though they are back, only that one is prefacing a return at some point. I do know that I’ll go back, I just don’t know when.

On my drive out, I drove through the Beartooth Pass. It was positively the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. It was more impressive than all the mountains, canyons, skies and fields that I had seen before that point. I remember about ten miles after I had gone through the Northeastern entrance of the park, I stopped to look back at the Pass, and I was awestruck. The mountains stood in all directions like the teeth of some demon slowly closing it’s disastrous maw upon the world. Glorious. I wish that I could have taken pictures or written things that properly described what I saw, but it was not something that can be explained. One must simply go and understand the majesty of those mountains. I’m sure there are many more for me to explore and be awestruck by, but these were the most impressive this far. I was dumbfounded by their regal monument. It was as though some giant had carved his mark upon the earth in a time of utter fury.

I have much more to say of my return, but all in good time. I am glad that it is almost over, but I feel that it is the first of many, many to come.

Day 70: (reach out)

It’s been a long run this far, and I’ve realized that I’ve been making a lot of mistakes in the way that I interact with people, so I’ve decided to move forward and attempt a huge change in the person that I am. I don’t like who I’ve been, and I’ll be out of that way soon.

Not much else to say, really. I’m leaving this beautiful place soon and it hurts to know that I’ll have to be on my way back soon. The drive back will be interesting, and I’ll be stopping in Indiana for a while to consider a transfer to IU. I don’t know what the future holds for me, and I’m waiting to find out, with a new outlook to boot.

Day 56: (I can’t explain it all)

The past month has been an adventure. A working, small-wage earning adventure. I’ve been all over Yellowstone, all over Wyoming, and all over Montana. I’ve been making a good number of friends here, all radiant, happy people that I am so glad to have made friendships with. I may have already said this, but it’s like the college experience that I missed out on. Granted, there is alcohol pretty rampant here, but I can do other things if I want to, up mountains, under rocks, into streams and rivers… There’s a lot to do, and I absolutely adore being here. I know that when the time comes I’ll be sad to leave… it’s so beautiful here that I really feel as though going home with be an aesthetic drag. Yesterday, Aaron and I were driving and saw a huge group of people on the side of the road with their ridiculous lenses staring off into the horizon. I asked what they were looking at and they unanimously announced “Bears!”. I didn’t understand it, because right behind them was this endless, wide, beautiful rolling landscape, and they were appreciating a single element of it because it was living. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. Above are some of the elements of my adventures, each a story in itself. The first is of Aaron when Aaron and I were on Specimen Ridge, the second after a beautiful hike in the Tetons, the third Lake McDonald in Glacier. Ask me about them sometime. They are all stories.

I’m really at peace here. This place has been inspiring me to consider myself further. There’s much to me that I have been learning about that I didn’t know existed, and I’ve started to become a more honest person, which I admit that I haven’t been in the past. I think that being true and honest to oneself is really what matters; when that’s been achieved the true person is presented to outsiders rather than an invention constructed of what one wishes to be. Aaron has been showing me this. He’s very genuine, and this is something I greatly admire. I don’t know if I’m genuine, but I hope to be one day.

I’ve been reading into the values and qualities of life. Not in a sense of the quality of in a superficial sense, but more in terms of what I want my life to mean, because quality is something you have to define on your own. When someone asks you what you believe your “qualities” are, what are they really asking? I could supply some placable answer such as my ability at languages, or my personable nature, but recently I’ve been thinking a lot about that the qualities of my life are not such. What do I value? What is a quality, or quality itself, in the first place? I’d love to know from anyone reading. My email address is bornfromblue@gmail.com