Seeing the Same Thing from the Same Place

There are no places on this earth that touch me so deeply as Glacier National Park. When I leave, I long for it like hopeless romantic's long for lover's that were never truly theirs. I often flash through my catalog of memories of shared moments of awe and quiet in places like the one above with friends and family. Without even exchanging words, in moments like that I can feel so deeply connected to another human being just by knowing that in the most simple and yet profound way we are affected by the same place. Sure, we're each inevitably carrying with us a life's worth of fairly unique experiences and impressions which frame our vision, however places like this force you to get over yourself and just drop the shit--to see without a frame. And maybe its just a faith based assumption, but I believe that with certain people who are open in this way to the landscape, we share in this frameless, ineffable, connection to that which is beyond us. And for you philosophy majors out there, this in no way fits in with Davidson's meaning triangulation theory--I'm talking extralinguistic perception here--philosophically speaking, I'm speaking complete non-sense--practically speaking, I'm speaking from the heart. For me, that's part of the power (and the therapeutic value) of spending significant periods of time in nature. On my third day of a backpacking trip all the clutter that I, by default, add to my perception becomes translucent, the awful din, an occasional cackling. I've got more to say about this, and much more to say about my trip back to Glacier, and the place photographed above, and my first few days in Bellingham, but I'm trying to stick with the short and sweet blog post format. No one comes here for an all you can eat buffet (I promise, Brendan, that is not a jab at you).

Beyond My Design

Right now, I feel a lot like the guy in this image (oh, and that was me too) must have felt--a small viewer on the cusp of something so far beyond me in scale and comprehension, a particle carried by large movements and processes, a bit daunted, also chilly. I'm talking about being part of a life, specifically my role in this one. I've been blessed with the opportunity to work as a full time paid photojournalism intern at the Bellingham Herald in WA for the next 6 months. I know that this is small stuff compared to the loud noise I was talkin' earlier in this post, but what its done is to remind me of how little sway I have when it comes to directing the course of my life. For months I've been sending out portfolios, my best hopes and efforts of directing the ship, and despite receiving some encouragement and praise, had to settle for the pro-bono variety of internship. But just when I had settled into the idea of rooting myself in Boulder for a bit, paying my dues unpaid, I get this wonderful offer to move somewhere that’s also apparently wonderful. Although exciting, this is a bit of a jolt. Not how I planned it, lets say. But that’s what’s got me in awe right now--the uncontrollability of a life, the frailty of my agency and will, and the gentle and steady dance of all things beyond me with which I too am learning to dance.

Grinnell, Revisited Again

Here are a few more from my return to Grinnell. Also, I've posted a gallery of images from my visit here. More or less an extended documentary of small social gatherings over graduation weekend (my favorite people are also my favorite subjects).

Walking and Hopping

Animal Cruelty