Dragonflies

I started a new blog, one that I hope is a little more artistic in its storytelling. Check it out at: dragonflies.tumblr.com

Mistaken Art

Painting Lessons

I finally started painting, after years of living with an artistic genius. "2009," he warned me last December, "will be a creative renaissance." These mark the start of my role...

Mexico and Onward

For the next couple of months, please check out our blog at milesformastatal.wordpress.com. You can follow along with our trip throughout Mexico Central America by clicking on that link!

North Cascades: Day Five

Another guest for brekky. Our last day was a leisurely 18-mile stroll out of the wilderness. I opted for flip-flops again with makeshift socks for protection. We all wanted to set up camp in the pastures for the rest of our lives, but something about jobs called us back to the city.
The mosquitoes drove us out of a potential final camping spot. We did manage to find a quiet spot within a well-established campground later on, and Nate scored three beers and all the necessary ingredients for smores from a nearby family. All it took was a completely fabricated story about how cool the three of us were.
As promised.

North Cascades: Day Four

Nate patched my feet again, a morning ritual. It helped, but it still felt like an elf was chiseling away at my heel bone with hammer and spike. After cleaning the wound, I realized that I could see through three layers of skin. The rubbing that accompanies every step gets old, but the views outweigh it.
As common a sighting on this trip as a tape-job. If you can remember back to my tattoo post, you know the significance such a sight has.


Day Four was full of pastures, each one different from the one before it. Each one tempted us to nap, dream, and run through in skirts and bonnets with hands outreached. We forgot both our skirts and bonnets.



We did nap and dream. And eat Entiat sandwiches.



Nice marmot.

Our days concluded with readings of Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. As a kid, it was the greatest book of adventure readable. Now, it's the most comical kids' adventure novel full of sexual innuendo and overdone description ever written. "It was hot and black, and Brian would eat it."

North Cascades: Day Three

I know it's been a long time since this hike actually happened, but I think that it's important to document. We were the first hikers of the season (and year) to make it to Borealis Pass. It would become the highlight of one of the most memorable outings of which I have been a part.
We found life again early on. Pastures began to appear with clean, breathable air!
The trail was almost non-existent. We relied on markers, like the one above, to show us the way. Although they were sporadic at best, we managed to stay on track.
Snow! Once again, the Spinning Snowball Stump Smash Challenge was in effect. For the first time ever, it was completed by all three participants in consecutive turns. We then slid around like little schoolboys.
Months later, photos like this one mean so much more. Tyler has gone back to the East Coast, leaving a void that can never be filled. Luckily, our future trails and plans are forever intertwined. These hikes in the greater NW, however, are certain to be missing a certain element.
My heels were gone. Well, that's not exactly true. They were still in my socks but separated from the feet that were still attached to my body (pics to prove this point coming in Day Five).


The ridge provided a seat for our favorite sandwiches (of the Entiat variety) and spectacular views. We hadn't seen another person since we started the hike days before and wouldn't until its end.


The hike back down to the main trail meant more barren lands, all unmarked. Our best guess landed us just yards from our desired connecting point. With it came masses of hungry mosquitoes, which translated to an early bedtime in insect-proof tents.

364

Without Missouri counted. 364 electoral votes for Obama to McCain's 162. This, my friends, is a historic victory. I'm not going to lie: this result has me ecstatic and full of hope. On the night of November 4th, I found myself standing on a chair leading Obama chants in a crowded bar, filling blank states with blue until the marker ran dry, hugging strangers, pouring champagne into unknown glasses, and kissing friends on the lips between tearful eyes.

I can not count on my fingers the number of times I have heard that this election is not important, that it does not matter who sits in the White House. Well, the fact of the matter is that over 120,000,000 people in this country cared enough to cast their vote. I believe that this is proof enough of this person's importance, as a symbol at the very least.

Obama is black. We, as a country, have proven that we have made huge strides over the past century. Still, we are not ready to allow the marriage of two people of the same sex. I hope that the results of this presidential election do something to extend our acceptance past remaining barriers. There is no doubt that these barriers still exist within racial differences, and it has been a long fight that will continue. But, as shown by a democratic vote, we are ready as a people for a man of color to take the helm and lead us ahead. This is a big step forward.

And I think he has some great ideas. I am happy to see that conservative attacks on his loyalty and patriotism did not affect the results because they most certainly cloaked the truth and have been imprinted on the minds of many. I hope that McCain's speech on election night helps that. From my own perspective, his speech was unexpected, sincere, and optimistic. If his campaign would have been designed in a similar fashion, he probably would have had a better shot at the Presidency. I am glad that the negativity can now end from both sides. Both men will continue to have a profound influence on this country and its people.

And for those who said that this election did not matter, did you see the world's reaction? In Seattle, hordes of people flooded into the streets of Capital Hill to celebrate. When the police came to break it up, they simply strolled downtown and let the celebration grow and continue. In Boston, San Francisco, New York, and many more cities across the States, similar showings spontaneously erupted. And in Chicago, Barack Obama gave an acceptance speech that called for the unification of everyone. Did anyone see how many thousands of people stood there in anticipation of what was to come, screamed, cried, and cheered uncontrollably when the results were announced, and hung on his every word when he took the stage? On this scale, this is not a normal reaction. And it extended well past our borders, even prompting a public holiday in Kenya.

I am ecstatic because masses of people in the US are excited about our politics. And no matter who your candidate was, you can not deny that you were part of the most historic election of our time. McCain and Obama both brought me to tears on November 4th, and both because of some very positive messages. I hope that Obama finds a way to follow through with his plans. I hope he manages to meet the majority of these high expectations that exist. I hope for some positive change. And I hope, as mentioned by my good friends George and Dwight (opposite on the political spectrum in many ways), that we can all have civilized political discourse with each other regardless of our political persuasion.

GObama... please prove us right.

Dragonfly

This past Saturday, I had the opportunity and great pleasure to sit down with a group of people led by John Perkins (NY Times best-selling author of Confessions of an Economic Hit Man) and Llyn Roberts of Dream Change. They are both shamans that believe in using indigenous knowledge and wisdom to encourage sustainable living and effect social and environmental change.

Alongside four good friends from the Ranch (Robin, Soledad, Anya, and Tyler), I found myself in a different world. The room disappeared as I searched for the true meaning of acceptance, both between people and concerning our ridiculous acceptance for the way things are. A dragonfly found me, and I transformed into him. My world was changed, I could see everything in a different way, appreciating everything down to a cellular level. Throughout my flight that took me through rainforests, resting on bending grasses, and finding nourishment in droplets of water that made pools within the fabric of small flowers, another dragonfly crossed my path. I could see Soledad's face on a single glance through six different lenses, and each of her faces displayed a different emotion (yet somehow encompassing all human emotions). And one butterfly would often drink from the same flowers as me.

I lost track of what it means to be human as my spine turned into red-tipped wings, evading the lashing tongues of chameleons and frogs. I could see the valleys that exist in human skin, where mosquitoes drop their needles and feed. And I could see first-hand how important every single drop and rivulet of water is, every speck of dirt, and how every cell could just as easily be human as it is dragonfly or tree or plastic. When we accept the cell as basic life, we will treat everything as our equal. And when we do that, when we give nature rights as has Ecuador by constitution, life can continue. We can then plant the trees that survive to give our grandchildren shade.

After describing this experience to Tyler (who took the form of various trees in his own journey), I asked Robin what form it was into which she shape-shifted. To the astonishment of Tyler and myself, she answered "a dragonfly."