3/10, 5:36 AM!
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Just woke up. My alarm didn´t do its job, but no worries, the Germans near me did. Efficient, like clock-work...I´m up and gone in 7 minutes, thank you army service, on my way to a 1 hour pre-dawn scramble up to Fitz Roy, this enormous Granite peak jutting up in the center of Clacier National park. Unfortunately the weather prevents the rising sun from splashing the peak with its orange-red colors, but the sight is still quite majestic...tangent time:
(skip the following if you´re tired of the bullshit expounded in the last entry)
What is it about solitude that generates such bursts of creative energy, leading to works such as Threau´s Walden and Kafka´s The Castle? I chose these examples as they represent distinct forms of solitude. Thoreu literally removed himself from society. Kafka was surrounded by others while living in Prague, yet felt as an outcast. During the pst few days, I´ve had a taste of both strands, which can be referred to as Isolation and Loneliness. The first needs no explanation. The latter may be somewhat misleading. I am currently at a camping ground amongst 20-25 others, all very nice and polite. Yet i feel alone. Not necessarily saddened by it, at least not now.
Break en route to Fitz Roy
The line between enjoying solitude, and suffering from it is quite thin. Naturally, we are socially complex animals, yet every great figure in the Western Canon must have his or her famed moment of contemplation, followed by a grand epiphany whose requirement is solitude. I rarely write, and when i do it usually takes place during travrl. Writing is a purely contemplative excercise, the product of a thought process. This is not to say that one must swear off companionship in order to mentally progress. Perhaps the writing which constitutes a culmination of one´s thought process is so often done in solitude because then the actor has no audience. With no one to hear the shouts of Eureka, our hero must write it down, with several exclamation marks for stress, in the hopes that some day a future generation will pick up his record, revel in its content, and worship, or at least remember the author´s name. No worries here though, my handwriting is illegible. (fi rant)
So yea, the hike was a bit intense, and the clouds blocked off much of the ¨dazzling¨dawn effects, but no worries. Fitz Roy apologized with a rainbow as i trekked back. Soundtrack up: Kanye West´s 808´s and Heartbreaks, Kaiser Chiefs and Arctic Monkeys. Soundtrack down: A bit of Metallica, the entire The Wall and some of Wish You Were Here.
One last thing. FORGET CRACK, in Argentina the epidemic is Mate. Its this loose leaf tea that peoplke drink gallons of. No matter where and when, even in the midst of a party during Carnaval, you´ll see some chapped lipped, nappy haired Argentinean sucking on his silver spoon, for that bitter herb. They walk around with thermoses in their hands all day. The following is a pic of a Mate vnding machine. It freely dispenses hot water for the Mate-heads. Confessions: I´ve tried it, liked it, but i´m not addicted! i swears it!
Worse than Freeway Rick Ross and Tony MontaÑa..,
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