The Grand Canyon
December, 2024
The unspoken instruction of striation, the red anchoring my maturity. The Grand Canyon has witnessed all my cycles, while I get to guess at its own emotional relics. Erosion. Tastes of lines. Echos of bliss and sorrow and mischief. Lines of tastes.
Three separate river trips, accumulating to about three months of societally distanced-respite, down this Canyon has included some of the most fortuitous expressions, connections, and collections of memories of my life thus far. To immerse into company of mystery, friendship, and time has forged questions in me which have ensured my impulse to seek freedom, and not the sort representable by flag. Thus, here is a collection of photos, videos, musings, and artwork as homage to fleeting, yet life-grounding friendships and these precious landscapes and ecologies, an environment home to mutual beauty and textured ancestry of the Havasupai, Hopi, Hualapai, Navajo (Diné), the Paiute bands and other Indigenous Nations. With self-testimony to both my moments of intrusion and also sanctuary in this mercurial river system, here is a small gesture to my care, storage, and impact of the timeless power which continues mumbling here.
Dismember, Remember, Watercolor, March, 2021
The little worlds make up a larger spirit.
I’ve seen them in the cottonwood commune
where light dapples in mouthwatering gloss
a hue of humble.
The bumbles of the spring
tell me - my blood smells of
sweet decay.
By this I mean abundance.
By this I mean that
the heart seems an oasis to the mind.
