Tuesday, August 9, 2016
I have many objections with this piece as with all the Intros that I wrote to the chapters of my first novel, but I shall not correct them, rather let the difference lay bare and one can see the novice mistakes and the change in thinking as my later works arrive, 'if they arrive' might be a more apposite designation.
|The Birth of Venus by Boticelli|
Intro essay to Chapter II
Some would argue that wisdom derives from and is the proper application of truth, and that truth will ultimately set you free, and some might even insinuate that all truth, regardless of how awful the consequences of that truth is: is beautiful because it is eternal—ultimately some would say that beauty is the goal of all truth because the otherworldliness of said beauty cannot be moralized or contained by the vicissitudes or standards of this world. That truth sets one free is not so suspect—even the criminal will at times admit after being caught that he is now at peace because he no longer has to live a lie, and he will further admit that the proper penalty affixed to the crime is a relief for him to serve, but beauty? the end goal of all truth is something altogether different and harder to prove.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Water, over a long period of time, carves out steps in the red rock near Donkey Flat.
Lichens create an interwoven patchwork of vibrant colors on a rock near the ever popular Sand Wash Boat Launch, the gateway to Desolation Canyon.
Willow Valley adorned in her white robes of winter regalia.
A rearing tank located at The Jones Hole National Fish Hatchery (USFWS) holds young cutthroat trout.
Certain desert plants look like they belong to the ocean floor. Caulanthus crassicaulis, thickstem wild cabbage, is one such plant.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
I recently found this intro to the first chapter of Night on the Invisible Sun. It kind of states the philosophy behind how chapter one came to be. I wrote it when I was 25 years old. 14 years later I still don't mind it, which I can't say of most early writings.
Intro essay for chapter 1
The Tugs and Pulls of the Modern World
I lived under the false pretense that I would die young. I set the age of death at 21; whether consciously or unconsciously established I do not know, but I always knew that I would die before my 21st birthday. Come to find out later, all three of my brothers shared this same false pretense. Although all of us had numerous brushes with death—none of us died. And so, I can honestly say that meaning in life did not precociously bloom within my breast. Everything I did in my life before the age of 21 was done under the two simple philosophies of action, reaction, and pleasure versus pain.