Philosophy and Photographs, Nicotine and Surf Wax

A bagpipe musician on a cliff at Big Sur, CA

I see wax in the hands of a culture with salted eyelashes and calloused feet. They surround themselves with the breath of adventure and experience philosophy by becoming a part of the deepest thoughts there are, the thoughts beyond words. The thoughts you think when you are eye level with the ocean, cheek pressed against the sand, watching the water glisten, your heartbeat corresponding to the lull of the waves.

I see nicotine filling mouths with words, uncovering the soul that humanity is so comfortable masking with superficiality. My own lungs will never inhale this decay and my mind will never justify its destruction, but my senses are inspired by the gratifying emanation it gives. The smoke is is the smell of speculation and contemplation, ideation and deliberation, opening unfolding minds which are burdened with concepts that are too complex for human words to communicate, but demonstrated perfectly by a cappuccino and a well worn pipe.

I breath in the alluring incense of surf wax and nicotine. They are showcased by the grandeur of places that photographs can never capture, but also by the camera that has captured things that can never be images. What can put a face on joy more than the wrinkling creases of an old man's smiling eyes? What can depict happiness beyond a bagpipe player's wizened fingers dancing to the music of the ocean's uncivilized waves? It is this unconstrained freedom which creates the delicate foam boundaries that kiss sandy toes where reminiscence meets reality.

Heavenly Valley, Tahoe

My life tends to leave a trail of adventures... Which can either overwhelm and exasperate or excite and motivate a person, depending on whether or not they choose to embrace my life whirlwind. So, I thought I would make a blog to verbalize them (the adventures, not the exasperated people). How clique and adorable of me to start it on January 1st, 2014 ♡

Right now, I am sitting in a thin-sheeted, queen sized bed at Heavenly Valley, Lake Tahoe. It's weird to have an entire queen to myself. My brother got the couch. I almost feel bad about that. We can see the gondola from our window. This is my first boarding trip of the season, and it's truly indescribable. I could be a whimsical, sappy writer and type something like this:

Snowboarding at Heavenly Valley, Lake Tahoe

   I heard the crunch of the first snow under my well worn, glued-together snowboarding boot. My eyes danced as I looked up at the mountain. My eyes are never the same color, because I don't think they can decide whether to emulate the piercing blue of the crisp sky or the dark mint of the deep evergreen trees... It is all just too beautiful. The trees are old and gnarled, like the wise fingers of a smiling grandmother. If only they could talk.. I would sit at their intricate roots and be whisked away into the stories their old branches would weave. But what is arguably the most breathtaking is the the glassy, sheer blue lake behind me. I'm afraid to utter even a whisper in fear that the soft motion will mar the perfection of its surface. The sky blends into the water effortlessly, like all along they were destined to be together. The only thing separating them is the jagged mountains, more majestic than anything I have ever seen. The dramatic shadows of the spun gold sunset and the deep blue of the shadowed snow is almost too much for my eyes to take in at once. But the miracle of it all is how my snowboard can take these elements and transform them to be relatable to me. I feel like I am a part of the mountain as I bend and swirl my body to dance with the snow pressed beneath my board. Faster, the wind bites my ears as it whistles past my face. Faster, my surroundings turn to a blur as my body crouches lower to the ground. Faster, and suddenly...

Blah, blah, blah. Please don't misread this, I don't see anything wrong with this idealistic, love-struck writing... But the fact is, that being here, snowboarding on this mountain, is indescribable. Trying to put words in place of the experience of snowboarding is impossible. It's like trying to describe the flavor of bubblegum or what colors look like. Being able to be a part of the dense beauty around me is like living in another dimension or having a 6th sense. Pictures can't do it justice. Words fall short. Recordings could never capture the sound of silence the mountain snow murmurs.

God cannot be described. We can see His attributes, like love, peace, joy, etc, etc. And what incredible attributes they are! But this place is oozing out and overflowing with the God who created it. Yes, God is omnipresent, but where else can you be swept away by His pure, untouched beauty? I want to be so deep with God that my life is that pure, original beauty. People think that God is a plethora of rules, and if that were the case, I would have ditched this idea long ago. But when I can become closer to that bubbling adventure, that purity that wraps around your heart and makes your throat tighten with unspeakable joy by the mere contact of it... when that can become a part of who I am? That's what I want, it's what I need, what I desperately long for. Or my life seems empty and pointless without it.

Okay, so there's my God rant. I just wanted to thank you, oh dear reader, if you stuck with this till the end. Here's to new beginnings.