MONUMENT VALLEY
WINTER 12        





in the soft blue and hard cold of a day just born, the sea unfurls in slow motion...waves white envelop and lap the changing cliffs of rocky islands set ablaze by the light of the rising sun...i have awoken at the top of the world and behold the revealing veil of Maya, behold the stone-creating translucence of a desert goddess who does not see that i see her. who cares at what price: at this moment i am drunk with morning glory...the breast has no choice but to expand.

meanwhile—a world away—a small crowd has gathered around a lone car parked in sand and frost. somewhat concerned for my safety, two Police SUV’s, one Park Ranger truck and two Search & Rescue ATV’s are looking for me; the kind of assistance i sure could use a few days later when the same car gets stuck in mud—requiring 12 miles of brisk walking to find help
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