Five years ago I crossed the United States with my belongings jam packed, contorted and tetris'd into my two-door Volkswagon rabbit accompanied by my best pal, Peter. The car was fit so tight there was no room for rearrangement to allow a tall, long legged driver, such as Peter, to trade off on driving. So I insisted on my passenger to be alert, ready with directions and music while we carried on westward. I have yet to post anything of our journey. Something about the trip brought a pang to my heart and up into the back of my throat, as if expressing the memories made them more past tense than I'd liked them to be. Or maybe less secretive, less magical than the way they dazzled in the back of my mind, under closed lids. Even now, thinking back to that 10 day trek, flashing through photos is this overwhelming feeling, images so vivid and loud, they bellow out in my chest; this entire timeline condensed. I don't think I can ever truly express just what that journey did for my soul, my life and my purpose- but in efforts to share, these are some of the digital photos from Arches and Zion, one of the most memorable places I've seen to date. And also the most stars in the dead of night!
It's messy with lights now,
Not in the way I recite the days of my arrival.
Spending time on that front deck gazing on
the lights that led me here.
Along that long abyss of Kansas
and that starry stretch that lit up the hills of Utah,
sitting in that valley, it was the most stars I had ever seen.
I'd never felt more free than I did then, with that person.
Still chasing. longing. looking.
