Trying to Understand My Existence

There is a reason I write about the desert, and other places of beauty. When I’m out in the middle of nowhere; far from cities, institutions, or establishments, It feels awesome and secure. So I’ve come to the conclusion that humans are in a deep load of shit. They keep manifesting their oppression in different ways. If I write about the wilderness, it keeps me balanced. The images of mountains, trees, and wind, these beautiful dreams are painted to my memory, and they bring understanding. I hear the wind when I feel confined, or wherever oppression pervades.

Society is everywhere, and its confusion keeps growing stronger. Every now and then, life feels so useless. I’ve been alienated, and want nothing to do with the dreams and ambitions of the modernized world; for their dreams and ambitions might equal death, destruction and dehumanization. How else can one describe the problem? My own mental outlook is a burden, because I don?’ know how else to feel, or react? This superficial modern culture suffocates me; what a hell-hole of confusion! Even when I conceive new ideas, even they become recycled versions of the same old disease, a continuation of the same old destroyer. This is how it feels and this is why I write about the wilderness. Everything is so spacious and empty, and I am empty inside. If I know nothing, then I must be more human?

My opinion is, humans are weak, and I’m weak. That is truth, because my own pride sucks. My arrogance and prejudices suck. I detest them all, because they’re components of the disease. This is my assumption, but I think many others feel the same, and if there is only silence, we would never get anywhere

I know nothing. If an an observation is made, its nothing more then that.

When Close Friends Fade Away

It’s real funny, but I thought some friends could last forever, that they would always be someone you could lean on? But even close friends come and go. They soon fade from your life and become distant, pleasant memories. It’s real sad in a way, because you build an attachment and relationship with them, and then they’re gone? Maybe I’ve been that way too, but I thought friends could last a lifetime? Despite my mistakes and imperfections, loved ones have always been there for me through thick and thin. And in tough times, family will always be there when I need help. If it weren’t for my immediate family, I don’t know where I would be?

The human race is lonely and unpredictable. Why are we unable to understand ourselves? Why is it such a deep conundrum? Sometimes I am afraid of being human, because of what I am capable of. There’s also much to learn in this lifetime. So hopefully I’ll learn the answers to some of my questions.

Sometimes if your friends stroll totally out of your life, maybe they weren’t really your friends to begin with?

The Earthquake in Iran

After September 11th, the chaos was all over the news. The world was showing Americans support and sympathy for their loss and tragedy. I remember how big and tragic the event was. When you turned on the TV, almost every channel was covering the Events of 9/11. Now a huge earth quake slams Iran killing more then 20,000 people, but I hardly see any news on basic network television? Yet, when President Bush gives a “Live Speech” normal television programming is disturbed. Yesterday they had the usual garbage on TV, and nothing special dedicated to those who lost their lives in Iran. There was no sign of sympathy or grieving. What I see is nothing but hypocrisy. Maybe it’s just my perception, but that is how I feel.

Pictographs Across Parowan Valley

Here’s an update on the trip across Parowan Valley; Mr. Harris had to baby-sit his two grandchildren Friday morning, so he was unable to accompany us. However, he drew us a map on paper, so we could find the hidden pictograph site that we’ve been unsuccessful in trying to locate at least a few times already. It was three years since I had been to the site, and thought I knew where it was originally, but didn’t. Thanks to Mr. Harris, we were able to locate the rock paintings in a small alcove in one of the many finger canyons.

I didn’t take any pictures, but my brother Joe and I plan to head out this next Friday to photograph the panel. Hardly anybody knows the locality of this place, and it is a pretty remote area. Only a few know where it is, and they are won’t usually talk. It’s best kept a secret.

It took us about 45 minutes to find the canyon where they were located. It is a beautiful place with large rock ledges on each side, and huge boulders sticking out of the ground here and there, even right in the creek bed. It’s a dry place, with hardly any moisture, but there was some moss in the alcove where the pictographs are.

We stayed out there for about a half-hour, and rested. It was windy and had been cloudy that morning, but it became sunny before we left. It feels mysterious, especially when juniper trees creak like old, rusty door hinges every time wind rushes up the canyon.

The panel depicts what looks like a small human-like figurines, some with exaggerated features, and one of the images had horns. There’s a small depiction of two people holding hands, but I have no idea what any them might mean? This panel only contains 5-6 different images, and is relatively small. I have an idea that there might be other rock art panels in the area, but the hills across Parowan Valley are a sea-like maze of rocks. From Parowan, it looks like a small place. But when you?re in them, you can lose track!

When looking these sacred images, it brings gratitude. It creates a deep appreciation for the history. The fact blows me away, that between 500-1000 years ago, somebody painted them, and camped in this same area while migrating, or something. But these ancient writings tell a story or an instruction that I will never be able to comprehend. That?s the mystery. Although there are a few people who claim they can read such things, I will probably never understand.

Hiking Today

I took my cousin, and brother hiking in some mountains across Parowan Valley today. They are located Northeast of Cedar roughly about 20 miles. We’ve made two attempts to locate a pictograph site that a kind fellow named Tom Harris, showed me about three years ago. It was like trying to find a lost gold mine. We found nothing, but our efforts weren’t fruitless. We got to see an awesome sunset, and everything was in a crimson glow. We didn’t get out of the canyon until after dark. The light of full-moon provided plenty, so we could locate the car. I take that old Honda Civic everywhere, including down 4 Wheel drive trails, and still is running like new. I paid 500 dollars for daisy, but she’s getting rusty and old; It’s only months now before she’ll retire.

I contacted Mr. Harris tonight. His health is not good, but he’s a happy person. He insisted on coming with my brother and me tomorrow, so that we can we can locate Pictograph site. I have my Nikon loaded with film, so I will take some photos and let you know how the trip goes.

9/11 and the War on Terror

My Perspective – On September 11, 2001, I was in the Madeleine Cathedral in Salt Lake City. I was there touring the church and wondered why so many people were mourning that day. A Journalist had been taking candid shots of people who were there, and he stopped me on my way out of the church and asked me about my feelings on the disaster that had taken place. He told me the entire story, and everything related. It sounded like nonsense at first, until I was able to go over to my dad’s work just a few blocks away.

My parents have been divorced ever since I was little. My Father lives up in Salt Lake, and I was visiting my mother while she was working temporarily as a school teacher. My brother and her moved up there until January, before moving back to Southern Utah.

Up until the week after September 11, my head was screaming for a quiet place far away from the city. After going to my dad’s office and watching a replay of the 9/11 tragedy, I became withdrawn for a few weeks after. My Dad is Catholic, and I went to Mass with him back at the cathedral in honor of the victims that had passed away. Two days later, I attended a memorial that was hosted by the Mormon Church in Downtown Salt Lake about five blocks from the Cathedral.

While I was up there, the only person who really understood me was my Dad. My brother, him, and I went and spent some time at a place called Antelope Island out west of the city. It’s a landmass that extends out into the Great Salt Lake. The three of us hiked to the highest point of the island; Antelope Peak. The sky was blue, and the desert was hot. When we reached the summit, we paid our own personal tributes to the victims of Ground Zero. And all was quiet up there, with only the wind, rocks, and bushes.

So if you think I have forgotten September 11, I haven’t! I remember sitting in front of the TV screen for days watching the news. I watched those towers crumbling over and over. I remember seeing the big plume; or the relentless pot belly of smoke smoldering from the concrete ashes, the remains of the World Trade Center. The whole event was like a ghost, or like a manifestation eating me inside. Hearing about the number of people dying on that horrible day is something that I will never forget.

Yes, the victims of Sept. 11, 2001, were innocent. They didn’t deserve the peril that they faced. You hear about how people were jumping off the towers trying to escape, and falling to their deaths. When it comes to the perpetrators, I cannot even begin to comprehend what was going through the minds of the terrorists that caused 9/11. They thought that they were going to be martyrs; they thought they were going to heaven.

The hate that caused September 11 runs very deep. The hate that caused 9/11 is so strong; no human can comprehend the viciousness that caused this casualty. At least, that Is how I feel! What drives an Islamic Fundamentalist crazy enough to blow himself up, murdering dozens in the process? What has created this hate? What are its origins? What’s the root cause of the restless tension?

Despite the 9/11 tragedy, America is going through some strong awareness. We have all suffered from the major events of 9/11, each in our own private way. We know where to seek solace and peace. We each have our own Core, and our own Expression to deal with the tragedies facing this world.

Hearing the stories of September 11 from other people; especially those who were personally involved, is to relive the Event all over again. It sparks those same memories and feelings of despair that every person on Earth must have suffered in one way or another.

How can the hate in the world be defined? Does it carry a meaning? Every time I try to put my own definitions on world problems, those definitions fall apart. I try to gain my own understanding of world problems, but I don’t understand anything! Everything I try to define becomes, the idea becomes false. Then I am left with my own illusion of peace. I?m blindly seeking some kind of solitude within the wreckage of modern life. Why were we born into it? Where’s the truth?

An event that truly shocked me as much as 9/11, was the war against Iraq, and the continued occupation of Iraq by Americans. Those who watched/read Al Jazeera news or know the Arab side of the story can realize and maybe understand the tragedies taking place on both sides of the conflict. During the American invasion into Iraq, Al Jazeera published photos of the chaos and destruction; Children in hospitals covered in blood, wounded, dismembered, and alot of them dying. For a very important reason, I think Al Jazeera paid close attention to them. It created an anger inside. Another disheartening awareness was seeing the disturbing images of dead woman and children laying in the streets and cities in Iraq, and all the other graphic things that any person can barely look upon. America was busy (maybe in vengeance), dropping bombs on Baghdad, and everywhere in between.

What is the goal of bombs? They are used to KILL, and DESTROY! What’s the purpose of tanks rolling across the deserts of a sovereign nation? What was the purpose for US soldiers to crawl right into the heart of Ancient Babylon? Were they liberating, or were they invading? The last person who wants war is the Soldier, correct? No war is just, unless your truly defending your family. What is the true motives of America? Especially if the IRAQI WAR in not linked to the WAR ON TERROR? Or should I say rich, and wealthy Amerikkka? Is the American occupation any better than Saddam Hussein and the Baath Party? Where’s the Weapons of Mass Destruction? Did President Bush abuse his power and cheapen the events of September 11? (Check out this article by Ted Rall) Hell, what is the War on Terror all about? Any opinion can be proven wrong, but maybe the WAR ON TERROR is to scare Americans into submission. Especially with the Star Trek styled Terror Alert System! Simply pick the color, and you have Americans bending over at will!

Where’s the root of hate? Where’s the heart of the problem? Could it be now in 2003, the US Government abuses the memory of 9/11 to fulfill its greedy goals and desires? Maybe it’s the Oil? Or, are the Americans capable of being desensitized? Why was the Arab television station; Al jazeera showing all those horrible images? – I think they were trying to give to truth! Why did Al Jazeera create an “English” version of their website? If it was for people like me to know THEIR SIDE of the story, then they haven’t done it in vein.

I have come to the Awareness, that there are FAR MORE similarities than differences on both sides of the conflict. We are all human beings capable of fear, happiness, love, hate, destruction, beauty, despair, sadness, hope, and harmony, ect. Eventually we all die! The hate might never disappear. But violence, war, and destruction will always multiply the hatred. You can’t put a stop to Destruction using Destruction. It seems like a contradiction! Where’s the future?

This whole view is fluctuating, and what I say is based on what I know at this moment. It’s nothing more and nothing less. I can’t claim to know anything, because I’m a sheltered guy living in Southern Utah.

A Place to Vent

This Journal is a pleasure to write in. It releases all the couped up feelings, and they ARE selfish feelings. If I can spew them out, or vent them in fashion, its all cool! Dealing with everyday life is hard. Dealing with the urge to want something more is even harder. Where’s the ultimate freedom of choice?

If anyone is reading this, I want you to know that I haven’t allowed commenting for my visitors quite yet. When I find out how they can be moderated, then I will allow commenting to take place.

“An audience to quote me on my personal thoughts, cool!!!!” Just-Kidding 😉

Welcome to my Blog!

A couple days ago, I found this awesome Blogging software on the web called, Movable Type. Its a simple tool that is used by Bloggers everywhere. When I found out that it was free for personal use, I’ve decided to try it. Don’t know how long I will use it, but it’s fun at the moment!

The hard part was getting it installed on the server. And had to configure the CGI script and make sure that the proper Perl modules were installed in order for the program to run.

It was a pain to set up, but when it was ready and running, Its a real neat tool. Its web-based so I can write in this journal from any computer that has internet access.

Cool! 🙂