It's sunset. The tangerine bulb dives beneath the mountains. The effect is brilliant. Streams of marmalade against the clouds, glowing like the almighty himself.
This was the origin of stained glass - to remake the sky. We put nature inside of churches, illuminated by the daylight. A kind of prototypical James Turrel.
This supernormal stimuli caused irrevocable awe in churchgoing peasants.
Today we have a computer screen instead of that sunset.
9/1/04
[Day 9]
September. Children nestle inside classrooms. It is fall and things have already died.
Pumpkins and harvests and the ground preparing to lie dormant again for another cold winter. But even fall here is not predictable. It is still warm outside. The leaves will not change colors.
Snow will fall, and everything will die instantly. There is no Fall in Wyoming.
Nine days since the evaporation of my once happy life. There have been times when I have been happy during these past nine days, but they have been fleeting. Very fleeting.
Cheyenne seems empty now, like the blank plain is always has been.
A successful man told me he'd been published 6,500 times and was still painfully nervous every morning. I'm normal.
Faded Reality was a blog I kept in 2004 at age 18, while I struggled in a town of 50,000 people.
This is a catalog of what I felt before I escaped to college.
What is a life? What to do with one? The opportunities are endless.
