April 16, 2014
Beauty becomes burden. Counter-intuitive as it seems, the breathtaking scorched-red mesas and gently flowing waters of the Colorado River became tiresome, almost annoying. I felt a desperate urge to capture it all, freeze it, and hold it. Each bend was more gorgeous than the last and each meadow stretched farther than its predecessor.
I gasped for breath, drowned and smothered by the beauty encircling the fast-moving train. It’s a hopeless pursuit to capture everything. The mood, the light, the quiet delirium that inevitably follow a few nights of sleeping upright could never show up in a picture. The moment is sure to scamper away, quick as a jack rabbit.
I long for more than the visual. I want to be way out there avoiding cacti and spiders. And this desire shall also pass. It will fade into the Earth’s curvature like the sun always does. Once the sun of my ambition is eclipsed by the calm of realization, I’ll want more. And isn’t that what life is?
Seeking, finding, discovering, and eventually forsaking in pursuit of the new, the mysterious. The aim of capturing beauty is a fruitless, yet necessary, endeavor. We must capture beauty and coldly send it away if we are to keep living.