Saturday, December 8, 2007

Wind Chapped

No traffic and high speeds will get a person anywhere really fast. My drive up to Pt. Reyes was breathtaking. Swerving in and out along the cliffs left me feeling exhilerated, and wondering why I had never known of this path before. I spent a gorgeous Friday watching elk, climbing beauty, eating home-cooked yummys, and exchanging heart love with Amy. Later that night, we went to watch "Under the Tuscan Sun" at a "theatre" in Pt. Reyes Station (the big town with population less than 900). Surrounded by plastic yard chairs with cushions, 4 other people, and organic popcorn by our side, Amy and I enjoyed everything about our night out on the town. The local who hosts these movie nights is Academy Award winner, John Korty. He seemed like a sweet man with a gentle, yet passionate, love for film. I enjoyed my brief conversation with him and found myself wanting to become his little friend.























This morning, Amy and I grabbed breakfast at
Pine Cone Diner. Greasy hashbrowns, chicken apple sausage, poached eggs, wheat toast, apricot marmalade...it was all extremely delicious. We parted ways and afterward I found myself doing all sorts of things: meandering through the street(s) of Pt. Reyes Station, meeting a dog with purple and blue polka dot bandages around its head, getting pushed around by extreme wind, witnessing a recent birth of a calf, voraciously inhaling 3 persimmons in 5 minutes, driving at high speeds (again), and climbing hills to get pictures of a root. I felt overwhelmed by the beauty of nature today, and at times felt like my heart/mind/soul/body couldn't contain it.

















































Windy and squinty - I put my hair down so I could feel like a super model with hair blowing everywhere.
























I'm not sure how or why, but the quality of my pictures are compromised. This is quite disheartening because the picture of this man below is just so surreal. He looked like a caricature, but not really because he was real and live. I could even touch him if I wanted to - well, not quite. He sat at the Bolimas fair as if he didn't have a care in the world - just sitting eating his food as if he had just walked out of his home studio after painting for several days. I wish I could just observe him for days and days.




















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