Photograph: Buddha Statue
When I am in London, I enjoy going to many of the tourist spots– like the British Museum. I am not sure many Londoners ever go there. There is a sarcophagus in the museum that is so beautiful– the first time I saw it, I was overcome. I began to cry. Seeing the Elgin Marbles was a profound experience for me. As was walking amidst the Assyrian and Egyptian statues. I took this photograph of a Buddha statue after spending many hours sketching and meditating with the Buddha. Seeing the photograph calms me even now.
Today was a day of movement and travel. A day of shifting time and space. I traveled over a mountain range flying into the rising sun. The mountains became little more than patterns of shifting color and contrasting values. I landed in Denver airport with its Dr. Seuss-like peaks (that is the second image above). The sun and I crossed paths and I lost two hours from my day when I arrived in Montreal.
Traveling is a sensory experience. I love the sensation of being pressed back into the seat on take off. I love closing my eyes and feeling the subtle motions of the aircraft as it defies gravity and uses the power of air to lift its too solid and heavy frame above that which is lighter.
I traveled from Montreal airport in a taxi. We weaved in and out of downtown traffic in smooth fluid curves.
I am in my hostel room four floors above the busy street. From my window I can see the balconies of the building across the road. The grand vistas of Woody Creek where the magpies fly and you can see forever are gone (the upper most image is from Highway 82 on the way to Aspen, CO). The language here is French but not Parisian French. It is the French of Quebec.
Traveling is a reorientation. It highlights both the familiar and the unfamiliar. I think traveling to go to a convention focused on the fiction of ideas doubly expands the experience. I am looking forward to both the convention and to Montreal.
The image below is the Palais des Congres de Montreal where the convention is to being held.
I arrived in Denver today. I drove from Lincoln, Nebraska to Denver on this leg of the journey. It was odd. Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, and Nebraska are all very flat. There are slight undulations and everything is green. There are corn fields everywhere. And cows.
Then I crossed the state line into Colorado. It was like the gentle corn goddess refused to step over that line. Colorado has a much more rugged feel to the landscape. It is drier and somehow much more dramatic. I will be in Denver for the next couple of days and then on into the mountains.