The views expressed in the texts do not necessarily represent the views of the artist.
Sometimes you wish you could forget your body,
walk away from its needs and all the ways you believe
it fails you. You are not always kind. Just now
you are scrambling up a canyon. The rock is red
and the sky is blue. This is your first time in the desert
and you had not expected to be so in love
but you are. You love the deep blue sky
and the yellow and orange and red sandstone
and the creosote bush and the Joshua trees and
you note with curiosity that the beauty doesn’t
make you less aware of your small self,
it doesn’t take you away from your body. No,
instead your body is a marvel, too, a marvel
that carried you to these other marvels, the sky,
the rock, the creosote bush and the Joshua trees and
now, finally, to the tinaja, this natural basin
carved by wind and filled with rare desert rain. It is
uncommonly wonderful: cool and green and quiet.
Your own body took you here. It is wonderful, too,
to notice your body in this way, when so often
you notice it only when you are hungry or thirsty
or tired or too hot or too cold or you have to pee
and you’re miles from the nearest rest stop.
Your body will be inescapable for your entire life
but you will not be ungrateful. You will press
your hands onto the smooth sandstone
and feel where the wind has come and gone
and will come again and slowly change the world.