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Faced with the unutterable, words still disintigrate...
And ever new, out of the most quivering stones, music builds her divine house in useless space.
-Rilke
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I am moody.
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[I am not very good at html]
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sometimes i wish... [a blog]
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Thursday, March 13, 2003
what a journey.
beautiful, rustic, enormous house in the middle of mountains and cow fields.
five close christ-loving companions.
trailblazing a mountain at 4:30am in the pitch black through trees, thorns, and snow to reach the cavernous rocks at the peak and build a fire.
exploring, cooking, enjoying.
uncharted caving with torches.
poker and other card games.
making tribal or bluegrass or folky music with bongos and djembe and guitar and harmonica and kazoo and rail spikes and voices.
worshiping spontaneously.
nudity.
gambling addictions.
extreme lack of scheduling [in only the most positive way].
comfort.
a warm fire.
a gasoline fire.
4 out of 5 extreme lingering southern accents.
lots of love.
...SPRING BREAK 2003...
1:46 AM
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