Tuesday, June 23, 2009

A great place to sit along one of the trails at Arches National Park.
You can barely see me sitting on the rock at the foot of the Arch at Arches National Park.

Between a rock and a hard place at Arches National Park.



Buddha, Sweetpea, and me at the D. H. Memorial and Shrine, San Cristobal, NM.





This is the first time I've had access to the Internet. We've been traveling the Southwest like a lightening bolt--not quickly but in a zig-zag fashion that I like. I don't have much time but wanted to post some photos. I have been soaking it all in and doing much writing and thinking.

3 comments:

Judith HeartSong said...

oh have a wonderful time Theresa!!!!!! Thank you for the postcard and for always sharing your inner and outer journeys.

Virginia said...

Looks like you are on a great adventure! I hope to see some of those places someday.

Peace,

Virginia

emmapeelDallas said...

What terrific pics!

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Dreaming

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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken

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Fave Painting: Eden

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Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

Fave Painting:  The Three Ages of Man and Death
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The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

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