It has no aroma, nor does it bare any fruit. The dull thorns cannot prick the skin, as there is no blood to be drawn. It is all that is, but it is nothing. At night, when the darkness is still and calm, it opens what is and exposes it to all. It is not always there for long, sometimes only by chance. As the gray of dawn casts its awaking shadow it will close to bathe in the morning dew. - dbA
Scenes and Sounds
All yesterday was, was yesterday. Today is different. Today is today, saturated with scenes and marinated with sounds, none of which I will see or hear tomorrow. Some of these magnificent images may linger in my mind though time, maybe forever, while others gently slip away with the breath of the wind. – dbA
It is the purity in the eyes that see what they are looking at, eyes that seem to sparkle with each and every glance. When these glorious eyes find you, when they look at you, they smile with a true smile that illuminates the whole of your world. These are the eyes that belong to the beautiful people who are governed by their souls. The people that do not know how they radiate all that is, they just do. - dbAOriginal Multimedia art piece from the photomontage series.
Madison Buffalo Jump
As I walked though the heat, dried grasses and dust my thoughts rushed back to the times of old, when this area I was experiencing was filled with life and death. In my mind I looked towards the vista to see the “runners,” high above the massive semicircular cliff. Vastly skilled young men filled with endurance wearing buffalo, antelope or wolf skins luring and pushing the buffalo into position for the end. Then my vision moved to picture what I would be seeing right where I was standing, right now, beneath these cliffs as the ground rumbled from the thundering hooves of hundreds of buffalo being pushed over the “pishkun”, or cliff. I could see their massive bodies hit, bounce and tumble to their deaths. I could hear the bellowing of the ones not killed from the fall and see the lean hunters running to the crippled animals to end a life while sustaining their own.Then it was quit, save the distant crying of a lost calf. All that was visible now, were the immense clouds of dust rising as the woman along with the rest of the tribe move in to harvest the meat, the hides and the bones, ensuring survival for the coming winter. I turned and looked towards the Madison River, my back to the cliffs and it seemed like I could almost see the encampment along the rivers edge. For the briefest of moments, I felt just the slightest feeling of being there with them, on this day of death, which was allowing life.Being here for me, now, 200 years later was humbling and I felt no need for talking or allowing my mind to wonder into any other place. This killing field offered an overwhelming, spiritually filling space to inhale the energy that was, and still is.The Madison Buffalo Jump State park is a bit off the main highway between Three Forks and Bozeman Montana, but it is a side road the should not be missed. It is open year round with daylight hours. There is no tourist shop selling foreign artifacts or T-shirts, just some small interpretive signs explain what happened there and one warning sign to watch for rattlesnakes. But this area doesn’t need gift shops or venders selling over priced drinks and snow cones. What is there is all that is needed and when you open your heart and mind, it all rushes in. – dbA
The days are not as long as they were a month ago and the temperature seems to be following the sun. I lay quietly thinking about the pain involved with the movement of getting up. This discomfort makes me wonder if the demons have moved inside for this time of the short days and long nights. Are they sitting in the dark corners hidden in the shadows? Are they watching me, wondering about me like I wonder about them? - dbA
Chained to Time
From A Page In My JournalsTry to imagine life without time keeping. Within today’s path of being I doubt you can. You know the month, the week, the day, the hour and any direction you choose to look; a clock or calendar can be located. In fear of being late, man cannot function without a timepiece to govern his schedule. When we look and see the movements in nature, we see just how defectively we are chained to time. Nature moves without the need for timepieces. It is never late, it never worries about being on time, it simply happens when it happens. Nature’s time just is. I doubt there is a way now that man can live and function within a time freeing way, so man is the only specie that is trying to live while enduring the fact that time is running out. - dbA
Each time I return to my address, I revisit the motive of why I was gone. I love my zip code area, as well as the magic that flourishes here, but I cannot be dormant in where I live. My strongest stimulation derives from the road, exploring the new, even if these places have been touched before. It is the joyous rush I pursue. Like an addict, it is a euphoric feeling I chase, the moment of now that makes me stop just to admire the mystic wonderment of a wide-open vista.I stroll into a small town, find the local museum to see and visit how life was, then find the local coffee shop and taverns to see how life is. I make 100’s of images of the things that catch my eye, but I will also sit my camera on top of my sandals so I can feel the energy of the area absorb through my bare feet. The energy of where I am, right now in the indention of where I am standing, flowing up into my existence. I shed my cloths and dive into waters I have never touched before. I can spend hours wondering in a place doing nothing but being where I am.I find no urgency in what I do, as discarding the chance of regret while making memories is my high priority. I smile and meet the person I will never see again, knowing the greatest moment is now, as we assemble. I am here to see, record and share what I am observing, doing and feeling, emotionally wrapping it all with particulars, creativity and spirituality. I do this while I gorge myself with existing. This is my constant, the configuration that makes me alive in the who, of who I am. - dbA
Within The Core
The solution to just about all that is, can be obtained by seeking the answer within the core of nature. But first we must discard all the shutters and barricades that have been obstructing and blinding our vision. We have to abandon all the proclaimed manmade induced convections that for generations have been rotting our existence. - dbA
A Small Piece
By no means are the words I share intended to be some type of guidance, or advice. I am crowded with to many imperfections in my own personal journey to sermonize what is. I think, I question, I write and I share to evoke thought, maybe as just a brief glimpse through an old elapsed window. By doing so perhaps I may be gifting you a small piece that you have forgotten, or a small piece you are missing. - dbA
Expose The Way
For reasons far to bizarre to ever understand, so many people tend to react in favor of preserving a negative mindset. They seem to find a misguided comfort and wish to stay wallowing in this dark quagmire, as they flounder and grasp at others to tug them in. This mode does nothing but drain and dulls the light of being. Exchange this murky pattern and move into the light. Leave the dark bog behind and step into delight. Doing things of pleasure, being mindful to be in the moment, will illuminate the person you are, as it exposes the way to a positive stance. dbA
The Frontier Club
Nestled on the south side of Main Street in Three Forks, Montana is the Frontier Club. During my conclusion to the day I found myself walking through the door and greeted by a grizzled looking falla’ saying, “Finally! Someone I know.” I smiled and exchanged bar room greetings, but I had no clue who this old friend could have been. But, we are now, in spite of the fact, he continued dipping and eating his Corndogs and we never spoke again.
There is no doubting that the Frontier Club is “Local”, but they made this wonderer feel welcome as I bellied up and ordered a libation. Austin, the bartender was great and kept her heart-warming smile well illuminated. She is also more then just the bartender, in this rustic, Montana bar. Austin was also the bar-back, bus-boy and when any type of grilled or deep-fried food was ordered, the cook.
The Frontier Club is a pure Three Forks style of a sports bar, and one of the few that I thought could almost be perfect. Between the elk horns and western memorabilia hanging on the walls were four televisions, one with a football game being played, one with Steve McQueen in Tom Horn, one with the E Channel informing, and my favorite was the one with Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. There was no competing with sound as all the televisions were tuned down and Rock and Roll was playing on the jukebox, at a very high volume. Dirty Dancing took on a whole new feel as Johnny and Baby danced with their libidos to Motley Crew.
Three Forks and the Frontier Club might not be a destination for the tourist seeking a destination, but for the traveler who likes exploring off the beaten path a bit, it’s a must stop for a frothy one and I would try the Corndogs, someone might know you too. - dbA