CHASING HEAVEN
At some point in 2007, I became addicted to road trips. Perhaps I was on the run from dangerous memories - racing down the highway, one eye on the rear-view mirror watching for signs of the ghost-posse that was most surely howling on my trail. Or maybe I was childishly attempting to slip the bonds of domestic drudgery. Or still maybe I was dedicated to digging myself ever more deeply into the rut of alienated lonerism.
On the other hand, I like to think that perhaps my compulsive dedication to movement was actually more forward-motivated than backward-looking - that maybe I wasn't running from, maybe I was running to...it seems completely possible to me that the fantastical beauty filling my windshield over those countless miles of highway - the sun breaking through the clouds over undulating oceans of tawny grass, the mountains rising, the storms gathering, breaking and inevitably passing - was simultaneously healing me and teaching me something I really needed to learn.