Photos, Artwork, & Musings on Life, Spirit, Entheogens, Time, & Travel

Standing Up Country – Utah

 

A photography post for this hot summer’s day.
Here are some of my images from my last journey into an amazing landscape in southeastern Utah. Please click on any photo for a larger, better view.

I will be heading back into this area this fall to do some more photography and cinematography and I will look forward to sharing some of that with you then.

 

CheslerPark1-borderThis is Chesler Park, part of the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park. It’s a very special place I’ve repeatedly visited since 1975.

Here is a manifestly magical landscape where, as the ancients said, “There are more rocks standing up than lying down.”

Entering this land, we feel like we have stumbled into a giant, ancient, Atlantisian cityscape – thousands of massive buildings, scatter far over the rolling hills and loom profoundly next to our tiny forms. They are frozen in time as the wind and sun slowly melt the magnificent masonry into curious shapes. Long, inspiring parks of green and orange still echo the aesthetic design of a masterful and artistic urban planner. It is a scene that seems populated or that seems it should be – filled with milling crowds. When the black raven caws and the wind sighs around the rocks, however, we realize that it is too quiet for such crowds. There are few humans here. The rock pillars themselves form the sense of mass congregation.

Perhaps it is all mere sand and wind. Perhaps.

As we stand, dwarfed, by a reddened wall topped with curious minarets and colorful balanced spires, we may sense that this primordial cityscape was designed this very way by spirit beings or unknowable men and women of mystic vision, serving some need of the soul and heart that still resonates in us today. We feel the rocks ringing and singing their long songs, gazing ever into eternity.

Needles1-border

 

Needles2-border

 

PictographHands-border

 

Spirit hand prints of the Ancestral Puebloans who passed this way some 500 to 900 years ago. With time so long and slow in this magical land, it seems that the red paint should still be wet to the touch.

You can hear Time pass by in a soft and curious breeze between the painted walls.

 

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