::5-12-08 Departing Denver ::
this is my new favorite public artist..(Jacy)
Not All of Denver looks like this.. ( Justin )
Avon, Colorado ( Justin )
Into the Gaping Wounds of Giants…
I begin writing today at 75 miles per hour just outside of Vail Colorado. ( 8,150 feet above sea level.). Our hearts are filled with gratitude today, as we’ve been experiencing a great amount of support and kindness, from those we’ve happened to cross paths with on these beginning days of our journey. I have grown to believe so strongly in the necessity of establishing, and moreover, maintaining lines of communication with these like minded individuals, that it has become more of a part of my life than most believe the actual art to be. It seems that the music we bring is almost secondary to who we are, and the stories our lives have become. Yet as we travel now, our pasts shine like beams of sunlight Into the Gaping Wounds of The Giants, scathed motorways cut deep into layers of stone to provide us safe passage, and uncovering layers of messages to show us, once again, a history we can hardly conceive of. Being in the presence of such exposed natural beauty raises many questions of self worth, in just how much anything we’ve ever done, or will do will actually mean when we leave these body vehicles, for we are not miners or bankers, nor are we politicians or representatives to anyone but ourselves. We are storytellers of adventures that stand to be forgotten in the face of what the United States is becoming.
A deep breath, and a glance out the window at a sequoia grove, and miles of wild sage reaching upward towards the suns embrace washes minds clean of the filthy urban landscapes wallpapered with currency that ties tightly around our necks like fresh itchy rope, but our necks are just made of words and air that is crisp and sharp, cutting through like shimmering blades for the sake self preservation, for our freedom of speech, and the unification of the common mind.
These mountains have seen such great pilgrimages of greed, in the human’s nature, to place value in their guts, and forcefully take the with ungrateful recklessness, yet they are resilient and vivid the colors of Spring’s rebirth, and they welcome us back again. They show no signs of a disapproval of our passage, for we want nothing from them but their mystery, instead, a light spring rain that freshens and cools the air. For that we are also thankful as Colorado fades into our rear view mirrors, we forge ahead, but it does not leave our boiling hearts. -Moon, Son of chief