Journeying through the hot Texas landscape of July 2011. I made my way towards Santa Fe. I was leaving Dallas. I wondered if there was a Santa Fe of the imagination. Could there be a Santa Fe of the mind? I decided to let go a disappear into the journey. I was delighted to notice how the landscape changed ever so subtly as the terra firma gradually gave way to desert and then high desert. As I drew nearer there were these awesome grey cumulus clouds the dominated the sky. The light shone through them in a tortured chiaroscuro simultaneously lightening and darkening different parts of the landscape. On impulse I began photographing through the windows of the Benz at 70 miles per hour.
The road began to twist and turn upward. I was overcome by this feeling of drama and emotion, partially produced by the landscape. This was a place I had never been before and I wanted to surrender myself totally to the experience. On the outskirts of town I noticed that there were winding roads that followed the contours of the landscape. The streets were clean and lined with houses set back from the street. The yards looked like the were just filled with native shrubs and colored gravel. Two teenagers passed me driving a Black Landrover.
I stopped at McDonalds as I neared my destination(the Hostel on Cerrillos). I used the restroom and noticed there were Hispanic and Indian people in the restaurant but I felt at one with them. We belonged here despite any sideways glances I recieved. I got back in the Benz and wound my way to the Hostel following the voice instructions of the woman from my GPS. The drive from McDonalds to the Hostel reminded me of life. The road was under construction and it twisted and turned and you couldn’t see what was around the next corner. Upon arrival I went in to the lobby of the hostel. There was a young blond kid running around and the clerk explained that his mother was on a daytrip and he was watching the kid.
The sun was setting and some people had gathered in the parking lot to watch it through the haze of the distant burning fires. Some dude named Rusty was standing there. He was about 45 years old with redish blond hair. He had an eight inch goatee that was kept safely in check by five rubberbands. He was chatting with an Austrailian Hippie lady that was the mother of the boy who was running around the lobby when I arrived.
Rusty was there on business. He was painting a mural of a giant effigy that is burned every year on the day of the dead. This effigy probably inspired the Burning Man Festival. He was up from Tuscon. Outside the hostel there was a small Toyota pickup and it had a Masonic sticker on it. The sticker reminded me of my friend Barry the Texas Painter.
He has an obsession with the Mason’s, Masonic Rituals, Masonic beliefs and Ideas and has developed an original theological concept that uses the Mason's core beliefs as a point of departure that he has named "the God Sized Void".
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