Seeing the music in my head. . . .

Sunsets near the Snake River

I can't show you - I can't tell you - you'd have to enter my imagination and see it. It's frustrating - having parts of yourself that you don't know how to share. I don't feel like being introspective today - somedays are exhausting - somedays you feel as if you let someone down. Somedays you look at yourself and just laugh. Laugh at the spectacle which you are - not hating it, but geunily enjoying where you are at. I went out last night taking shots in the full moonlight. Learned alot about light and about my camera. Started down Davis Way waiting for something to catch my eye. Most trips start out like this - no set goal - only the desire to get away and think.

Shadow Portrait: Davis Way

The camera sometimes is more an excuse and an outlet than a hobby. Maybe that is what hobbys really are. Ways of dealing with life on your own terms. I used to doodle for the same reasons. And as I walked all over town - processing life - ignoreing life - as I walked I found myself heading out of town. I was not dressed for the weather, no gloves, a thin jacket, carrying a camera bag and a heavy (albiet awesome) tripod. I found myself walking on the Chipman Trail in a mood - not a bad or fowl mood - just a strong mood - ok maybe it was a bit of a fowl mood. The sort of mood in which you find yourself in when you have just stubbed your toe on the same edge of the table for the 11th time this week and its not the tables fault, its not anybodys falt, but you hate the table and the forest it grew up in, and the man that cut it down, and the delivery company which shipped it, and the store that sold it to you, and the man who designed you house so that you would have to walk past this stupid huge table. That sort of mood - the sort that only grips you in the first throbs of that big toe. Two miniutes in you find yourself laughing at your own clusmyness and decide that you really do like the table after all. Well it took more than two minutes - it took about four miles in the cold and the wind. Four miles of the tripod slapping the back of my knees - four miles of talking and thinking. Four miles of angst - then after those four miles after my back hurt, my hips hurt, my sholders hurt. After all that my attiude broke and I saw what I was - a very cold, fat man walking to Moscow, in the dark, with no gloves. The humor of the situation, that and the cold, and having not eating anything all day got to me. I started to laugh - telling myself what a cold, dumb, silly guy I am. Sometimes I think I am far to comfortable with my own company.

Davis and Grand

Miles left to go, miles and miles and miles (six and a half to be exact). Did I figure anything out? I don't know. Did I learn anything? Do I ever learn anything? I learned that I can walk to Moscow in a short time. I learned not to order a lotto when the bagel shop is really busy. You want to order the lotto when the bagel artist is bored and looking for an excuse to be creative. I learned that if your little sisters are going to pick you up in Moscow, they will lock the keys in the car - and park the car as far away from the bagel shop as possible. I learned that I need to look out for other people. I learned that camera batteries die in the cold. I learned that walking with your eyes shut can lead to falling in ditches. I leaned that Crocs are great walking shoes. I leaned where I stand. I learned that fleece is not as warm as I thought. I learned that stretching is important. I learned that people from Boise State eat lots of large pickels but don't order bagels. I learned all that.

Moonlight Koppel Farm

Chipman Trail somewhere near mile 5 - Moonlight only - if you look you can see Orion's Belt

I am still learning