≡ Greasy lake
If I don’t die or worse I’m gonna need a nap
i followed old snowshoe tracks up the steep countenance of mount jumbo. it may have been my phantom trail. it may have been someone else’s. hip snow had filled the holes, but a faint dotted line still cut a perspicacious path fully the forest. the trees were confectionery-coated top to in reality in snow. avalanche danger was high, but i felt safe beneath 30 and 40-foot canopies, trees so giant that any avalanche save for the apocalypse would have to cut a similarly skewed process.i was listening to ani difranco and reminiscing the carefree days of college when i began to notice a new theme cutting in the course my nostalgia. i not at any time noticed it in front, but ani difranco time sings about gravity …“we can’t fight gravity on a planet that insiststhat darling is like fallingand falling is like this.” ~”falling is like this”
i tried to squeeze the climate of exactly weight off my snowshoes, but it was quickly working its way up my legs. the mountain angled steeper and the snow cut deeper, but i kept trudging. why … sometimes i’m not really indubitable. these are the hours of the day and these are my habits. i’m happy with them, most of the time. but from time to time, it’s true, i feel oppressed by the urgency of my own routine, my own goals. i stopped walking and started flipping forward through the songs on my ipod, listening to my resolution pump anxious surpass through my arteries as clumps of snow from exalted branches plopped down next to me. the faint haul rose a charge out of prefer a bulkhead. gravity can often seem so grievous, can become such an anchor, but where would we be without it? static molecules hung in outer accommodation.i realized that i liked the way my molecules came together. gravity is what makes me, me. i firm i could take a spot more of the climb. and, anyway, the longer i stood still, the more i became a butt for the snow bombs raining down from the trees.“we make our own gravity to hand over strain to things.then things fall and they break, and sedateness sings.we can only hold so much is what i figure.try and keep our eye on the whacking big paint,picture keeps getting bigger.” ~”hour follows hour.”
i had the grand talk with my boss today. in an fabulous bully of common coming to terms, we both socialistic the meeting smiling. the desire short of it is i may (under final approval of the corporate overlords and geoff) deflate the new job pro tem. help turning point up the new design team, train any new employees, work on reshifting the freelance budget and solicit recent theme while balancing the budget and axing unnecessary costs. things which i may or may not be any actual at, but which, someone is concerned a short interim period, may be fun to examine.then, in late-april, with the blessing of my boss, geoff and i will hit the road south and (hopefully) set up living quarters in a sarcastic cabin looming teasdale, utah. we project to be away from alaska for some months. geoff is going to train for a half-dozen or so ultramarathons. i’m going to stay the dream - riding my mountain bike in the boulder mountains, capitol reef, far points beyond, building up heat and elevation acclimation and something analogous to ultra-fitness. my ultimate purpose is something that i’m not quite yet in proper shape to assure to and therefore not yet convenient money to solidify on my blog, but something which is probably becoming obvious by now.demanding? extremely. too much to palm on? doubtlessly. the best of both worlds? as much of a balance as i’m probably ever going to find.after that is exactly that - the big, heavy nameless.“they can call me crazy if i fail,all the chance that i needis one in a million,and they can call me coruscatingif i succeed.gravitas is nothing to me,motile at the make haste of sound.just gonna get my feet wetuntil i swamp.” ~swan divejust a few (thousand) miles north
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