Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Words // No one is out there

I'm looking for blogs in my niche.

I don't think I have a niche.

It's somewhere in between photography, both landscape and otherwise, theology and general (or odd) life.

I'm going to start writing more stories. I love substance. I will only get to know you via stories, and you will only truly know me when I share stories with you.

January 1, 2012.
Isn't strange how you can be surrounded by people, yet feel so alone. Not necessarily in a bad way, though sometimes it is daunting. Here is the thread from which I hung for 45 mins. My whole life depended on the strength of this one rope, no wider than 12mm. I felt so dependent, so helpless and so so small.

 There is my brother, my best friend, at the bottom of the rope, only 40 metres away. It was a long, long 40 metres. So much around me suddenly had a different purpose. the belt I had nonchalantly put on carried my life. The rock face in front of me held incredible beauty. The camera I held became so non-important, as I thought about the perspective that I was gaining in that time.

I enjoyed feeling small. I delighted having my often, pride-filled attitude towards my independence, diminished by the realisation that I can be so powerless. It did something else. It made everything else seem so big. Especially the things that surrounded me, the rock wall, the ascender I was attached to the rope on, the knot at the top.

There was a moment a few weeks ago, where I was listening to a narration of Jesus' crucifixion. Jesus, through extreme pain, continued to speak the words of power that held the nails, cross, centurion, clouds, earth and all that existed in place.

He had to keep speaking those words to keep me alive. God became very very big.

Across from us, two amazing climbers were free-climbing, bottom rope, up another corner of Pt. Perpendicular. They had amazing talent. It made me want to do more sports photography, extreme photography. Something I will definitely explore in the future.
 This is my dog, Gibson. He is the second Golden Retriever we have owned, Archie, the first dog died from a nose cancer. When we had grieved, and longed for a new furry excitable friend, we couldn't go past the Golden Retriever. They are extremely friendly! Gibson does not stop longing for love, and his honesty is something that I appreciate. We all want affection. I'm often to ashamed to ask for it.

In the photo above he is still a little wet, after going for a swim in the (now flooding) lake in Wagga. Around Christmas time though, in fact all of summer, he and I love going to the lake or the river and spending time in the water.

Link me a blog post that tells me more about you. Or comment, that would be awesome.

Enjoy your day,


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