Tag: travel

Yellow, Van Gogh, and GrandMarge

Meta, TK 2.0

“Strewn along the ground on a crisp autumnal day is sunlight torn from the star.”

– Yoodei_Mon

6 months ago, on my wedding day, my groomsmen gifted me with EnChroma °°°° glasses.

For those of you who don’t know, I am colorblind.

I told these kind, considerate souls – with reticence in my eyes and disappointment in my voice –

“Ohhh guys. I’m so sorry, but I have to manage your expectations. It’s possible nothing is about to happen.”

In contrast to those popular videos of men crying when seeing color correctly for the first time…

“I’ve tried these before, and nothing happened. I’m so sorry if I disappoint you guys. So…don’t get your hopes up.”

I put them on.

“slow saffron explosions – fires alight perennially, bursting gradually around a city”

– Yoodei_Mon

I was optically arrested. The rich, burgundy timber of the wall across the room – stretching from floor to ceiling – struck me in the face like a crimson synaesthetic chorus. It was one note; bass. Deep, vibrant resonance filling the room with visual warmth, but unassuming nonetheless.

I had simply frozen.

“Do you see anything?” one of my groomsmen eagerly asked

“yes.” My answer was almost a whisper.

What follows is a collection of pictures, and a piece I wrote specifically about yellow – the yellow that I did not know existed.

Nobody told me about yellow. Across from the Colosseum in Rome sits a man in a cheap lawn chair selling tchotchkes to tourists. Years of seeing that ancient stone structure have desensitized him to its majesty. It may as well be any road of plain asphalt. I did not see it.               

Strewn along the ground on a crisp autumnal day is sunlight torn from the star. Fall, by adulthood, is such a commonplace that the leaves spark only acknowledgment. At worst, they are an irritation. Fallen verdant soldiers maturing into solemn, sage beauty fitting better for a ruby.

Lining streets on a fresh, fall day stand slow saffron explosions – and you all act so blasé. Fire still compels, but maybe partly due to power. But fires alight perennially, bursting gradually around a city. You drive by them disentranced, merely knowing they exist and failing to be awed. I did not see it.

               Fluttering from a dark, imprisoning pit flits warm, amber gold borne from outside Plato’s cave. It is a cool glow to you. But to myself, deprived of that embrace for decades end to end, turmeric pillars of heat envelop my soul’s every hem.

Nobody told me about yellow. Ochre parchment manuscripts enfused with earthy richness. Floating fire lanterns kindling tawny ginger into the sparkling, sunny harbinger – bronze. Yellow’s ubiquity performs the opposite of banality. The dazzling, dancing beauty of its luxury adds alone. There is no compare. I did not see it.

               You all see straw. A sullen flaxen dullness built into every tone. Don’t you see? There is no sand in sunlight – only explosive beryl heliodor, only glittering, glorious garnet.

If only you could begin anew. To see – again – shimmering lemon hide and soft, shining butter for the first time. Rolling daffodil hills infused with bumblebee yellow that I did not see. Pale, pallid caramel devoid of that magnificent explosive sunlight – straw that I did not know exuded chartreuse.

Nobody told me about yellow.

– Yoodei_Mon

Theodore

TK 2.0

Elisabeth and I traveled over Three Thousand Miles for Christmas 2021. We traveled through 8 states and one National Park. This sign in the Ozarks made me commit to these signs. They’ll be a tag of their own. We gained a dog (temporarily), saw family members that quickly dispersed to New York, Africa, Texas, and San Diego, and received a new tent that attaches to the back of an open Jeep.

Also, I need to get new tires (perhaps snow-rated Falken’s), a winch, and a maybe a lift.

In any case, two dogs fit comfortably in the back of a Jeep – even with a crap-ton of stuff – and can put up with thousands of miles and a family that’s willing to push.

2500 Miles

TK 2.0

Eli and I sat in the Jeep, in total, for more than 40 hours, drove over twenty-five hundred miles, and passed through 5 different states while seeing Mt. Whitney, China Lake, Pacific Beach, Las Vegas, Zion National Park, Horseshoe Bend, and the Navajo Nation. We ran a total of 6.7 miles, slept in 3 different places (including the back of the Jeep), and read hundreds of pages. We also bought some cool stickers.

In several million years, Horseshoe Bend will have likely become an “abandoned meander” and no longer exist as seen here, or in the numerous other pictures on the internet.

I cannot more strongly impress how awesome this sight was in person. The depth, magnitude, and expansiveness of the bend cannot genuinely be captured by photos so I highly recommend seeing it.

Also, if you look real close you can see kayaks on the bank of the inside curve of the river, further emphasizing how f**king monumentally grand this is.

Just, you know, in case you can’t see them.

Mount Whitney is the tallest peak in the “Lower 48,” standing at 14,505′.