The best thing about Vegas so far is the free parking. Maybe it is because I think there is a loneliness in money but this place, despite the amount of people, is easily the loneliest place I have been. There is absolutely nothing real about photos of objectified womyn sticking to my feet with each step or being approached by womyn handing out these photos, the spinning of electric slots and fake grass. We are staying with Nichole's grandma in a community that overlooks its own golf course and the strip and we can watch the orange moon rise over the city and I miss New Mexico. I miss the Grand Canyon. There are two dreams. Here you never wake up.
We arrived here Tuesday night. The week prior began with us standing in Texas staring at Mexico. We wandered throughout El Paso before crashing in our car in a random neighborhood off the highway. We then continued our search for the Rio Grande and found home. We continued to expand our time in New Mexico to a vastness beyond photos, to a deeper breath. Here we created a certain feeling of permanence.
The Grand Canyon continued to show us the sun. We watched the sunset from an old watch tower dangling over the canyon and the Colorado river. We then rose at 4am and watched the sky turn to various degrees of a rainbow and then the canyon was lit once more. There was a silence I have not experienced before and then our screams coming back to us three times.
I know find myself longing to be on the road again, headed to Burning Man or even home. Sunday will start our last drive that is not to Ashland. We will be camping with a group of people a friend introduced me to and follow them into Burning Man come Monday morning. I am looking forward to a different form of mass gathering. One that, if anything, forgets about money for a week. If all goes right, I will drink more water than imaginable and come back with a tan much like Mrs. Robinson.