Prelude

San Francisco, Ouray, Telluride, Ridgeway, Crested Butte, Great Sand Dunes, Santa Fe, Amarillo, Fort Worth, Shreveport, Birmingham, Asheville, White Stone, Charlottesville, Blacksburg, Floyd, Chapel Hill, Pittsboro, Athens. The last two months of my life have been comprised of these places and 3 road trips, with an apex in White Stone for a wedding and weekend full of good friends and lots of beer on the water.

Some prosaic anecdotes from the trip... A British man took on the challenge at the Great Texas Steak House in Amarillo to eat a 72 oz. steak in under an hour and failed, miserably. When I spoke to him there were 5 minutes and a frisbee-sized steak left. He talked about playing with the food on his plate, "I think I shall build a castle and hide in it." A Mason at a good barbecue joint in Fort Worth referred to Obama as a terrorist Antichrist. I apologized to my mother more than once for calling her "dude." It was preppy khaki shorts and wayfarers day for all the men on campus at UVA, no promotion was necessary. Got the gossip on Coran Capshaw's ex-girlfriends in Charlottesville. Bought a great Del McCoury album in Floyd, an awesome bluegrass pocket of the southern Appalachians. Spent the night in Chapel Hill with an amazing couple, Juan Logan and Susan Page: both profound artists, professors, and activists, and met a very talented potter in Pittsboro.

After putting 4,562 miles on my CR-V from these adventures, my journey from Boulder to Atlanta has come to an end. I am home. My adoring puppy George warms my feet as I write. There is no conclusion to be reached in retrospect of my experience traveling across this wonderful country. Knowledge and experience are fluid, not definite. They shape us as shifting beings, fated to the paradox they create: the need to express paired with a language that fails to truly communicate our unique existences. At least it's a good paradox; it's why life is interesting. It's also why I started this blog.


It's good to be back, red dirt under my feet and heavy air on my skin. I left so many friends and came back to a good family, always surrounded by love, and giving it out wherever possible. And, Lamp is my favorite nickname. Thus, I have named my blog, in a similar manner to most of my decision making: impulsive and hungover. The name gives a nod to shedding light on what I love and sharing it with you. "One can share a message through telling 'our story' as I have done, or through teaching methods of yoga, or singing, or making love. Each of us finds his unique vehicle for sharing with others his bit of wisdom" (Baba Ram Dass, Be Here Now). This will be my vehicle for expression, a place to post what makes me feel alive: my art, what cannot be expressed in words, recipes and meditations.