THE STORY OF "INCANDESCENT"
My mind slow-dances under pastel, so blue skies. Here, in this tranquil sea of desert, time is suspended. Amid the immense silence of the incandescent rock, I am finally present. The endless space below my feet, fading slowly into the shelter of the night, is a divine reminder that for those of us who spend our days mostly out-of-doors, or just about as often as we can, opportunity will always arise.
It was here where Abbey first and then I came, for a journey of which he wrote, “not only to evade for a while the clamor and filth and confusion of the cultural apparatus but also to confront immediately and directly, if it’s possible, the bare bones of existence, the elemental and fundamental, the bedrock which sustains us.” As the earth’s shadow rises, and I stare into untroubled air, whatever bad news lurks behind the Eastern horizon gets washed away in the solemn and serene. If only for the moment, that is all that matters. Because, so knew Abbey already, there was time enough for once to do nothing.
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