I used to think I wanted to be an artist. To me an artist had always been one who painted, drew or sculpted. In those younger years I was unaware…
Category: The Inner Workings
Short, potentially scary, insights as to what goes on in my brain.
It is the best of times, it is the worst of times, it is the age of wisdom, it is the age of foolishness, it is the epoch of belief,…
1 December 2015–It is my time. Over the years it has always been the same. Never secretive, but usually alone. It just feels better that way. In the same way…
18 September 2015–Aahh the feelings of inadequacy that come with not being able to send the project. Not good enough. Wanting it too bad. People say: “you gotta want it”.…
23 August 2016 “I need to get you to sign some paperwork before I leave” he says. He is sitting on the counter in the cookhouse shooting the bull. People…
Damn her. Damn her for putting ideas in my head, ideas that had never crossed my mind. I was content to do what I do. She said suggestive things like:…
As with so many of my vertically inclined endeavors, this one seemed doubtful from the start. It was to be a short afternoon of clipping bolts up on Sinks Canyon’s…
It started the same way and ended the same way. Driving in, the road was still rough. Walking out the beers were still in the river. The day was still…
Doubt, fear’s twin brother, confidently raised it’s beastly head today. It came as I stared upward at the imposing chimneys. It was there again as I followed my partner’s lead…
“I can’t get all this stuff into my pack.” Whether the first day, the second, or the day after a ten day re-ration, the comment is inevitable. Over the duration…
“Wow, that was the best pitch yet” Liz exclaims as she mantles onto to the white, rounded sandstone at the top of a varnished finger crack. “That crack was beautiful. …
I don’t claim to know what it is all about. I want to figure it out, but by no means do I have all the answers. I am engaged in…