Monday, Dec. 15, 2003 - 5:39 pm
Um... I'm sorry.
This relationship just isn't working for me.
I'm at www.dailypreciousness.org now. So change that bookmark.
So many wordless days… And yet I am back again, for your enjoyment. Dear reader, please forgive me for my lapse. I have not forsaken you. Well, maybe just a little. Back to the words, now:
In the red
Arizona – my time with Henry there was splendid. He’s a great travel companion: curious, chipper and warm. As always, his sparkling, outgoing nature broadened the path and lightened the load. I’ve heard that you don’t really know someone until you have traveled with them. If that’s true, then I can say that I have gotten to know Henry well during our shared moments in Boston and now in Arizona.
Speaking of “AZ,” it’s more than just a big postcard with the letters of the state spelled out in block letter scenic vistas, you know. (I hadn’t, actually.)
Luckily, my grand ignorance of the state didn’t spoil the trip for me, really. The resort hotel where we stayed had plenty of suggestions on things to do.
It stood tall and proud, several stories above the umbrella-stretched palms. The outside looked a little bit imposing – like a Klingon structure. But it was beautiful, too. Actually, it was a true desert oasis. Amidst the sandy, rocky plains of Scotsdale, the Marriott was quite a spectacle. Its marble and granite floor spoke with the same visual vocabulary as the desert sands. Sculpture sprinkled around the lobby spoke of sagebrush, barrel cactus and puma.
Henry and I breakfasted on elegantly reinterpreted cowboy food. Pizza with campfire fixings was good, but my favorite was the mixed desert desert fruit compote. It was amazing. Rich and juicy, it had plenty of butter and a hint of sage.
We motored off to see examples of 10,000-year old rock carvings at the Deer Valley Rock Art Center. The carvings were simple but strikingly beautiful – rich in mysterious intent. Why had people carved these icons here, so long ago?
Perhaps, living in this arid desert valley of inspiring landscapes, after watching his ten-thousandth wondrous sunrise, an early artist took stone tool to rock face and carved some of the things that he perceived around him. Perhaps the picture of two deer kissing has a religious significance. (Of course, maybe a deer is simply a deer!)
What about the mother holding her child… does this signify the birth of a firstborn sun? It’s fun to imagine why the carvings were made. Theories abound. But there’s just no way to know for sure. I got wrapped up in the mystery of it all. How delightfully mysterious!
Henry and I also investigated the modern architecture scene near Scottsdale. Strangely, the idea for this bit of cultural investigation came from my time as a city planner and urban engineer.
Back in college, I worked on several major city planning projects for Los Angeles, Tokyo, Munich and Paris. How did I snag such amazing resume tidbits? Simple. I used a city-planning simulator called SimCity 2000. For $35, I was in like a (floppy disk toting) Flynn. One of the architectural elements in the game was an arcology. It’s a planned living community that makes a city more vertical in nature, thus reducing the need for transportation networks. (Half a city’s land use is generally devoted to transportation. Take away roads and the smog that cars bring with them, and you’ve got a city that’s much cleaner. Cleaner means more livable. Livability leads to a better quality of life. These are the concepts underlying the development of arcologies – the synthesis of ecology and architecture.
We visited Arcosanti, a planned community nested in a scenic Arizona valley, about half an hour outside of the city. It was very educational. It forced me to consider the question, what is progress? Why has Phoenix, a city, that has grown larger than Los Angeles in just the past decade, disenchanted enough people to form a breakaway community of new-thinkers like this place? Well, the many negatives of urban sprawl have forced some people to think of better ways to cope with urban life. It was impressive and thought provoking new approach to urbanity: keeping urban life urbane. Fascinating, to consider a wholly new and different approach to urban planning.
Next, we dropped by a big hole in the ground. This was actually more fun than it sounds. It was huge. The next time I go, I want to ride a burro down into the canyon, gaping at the gorgeous vistas all along the way. Also, I’d like to go on a riverboat trip down in the base of the canyon floor, just to look up and see everything from that angle.
I supported the national park service by purchasing two CDs of first nation chanting set to dance music. I also got some nice postcards of WPA project national park posters. Very spiffy.
Henry and I bounced around Sedona on the back of jeeps, in search of ancient ruins and vortex energies. And we found them, riding in style, in fabulous pink jeeps Our guide was sassy and cool. I felt like I’d walked the same footsteps as the ancient ones. These folks really carved out a great life for themselves… I mean literally, they carved out their abodes in a protected enclosure at the base of an overhanging rock face. It was amazing. Sure, there were rattle snakes and killer lizards and vampire bats just hanging around to kill or maim you, but you had a whole house, just perched ever so fabulously, right there on the red rock wall. High, yet primitive , glamour. One of our drivers pointed out the spots where you could feel positive and negative energies flowing out of the rusty red rock face and into yourself. I kind of felt it, too. I was just a little skeptical at first, but I walked away wondering if there might, indeed, be something to all this vortex stuff. Oh, and the guy got major bonus points for showing us the statue of the original Sedona, a woman whose smile greets you every time you go to the public library.
All in all, it was a wonderful trip. We managed to get a lot done in that Saturday through Tuesday vacation. The vacation was marvelous because the deeply hued red rocks of the desert were like nothing I'd ever encountered. The impossible, unearthly beauty of the landscape charmed and impressed me.
The next time I see Arizona, I hope it’s for a week. That would allow me enough time to appreciate it and really get into the spirit of the place. For now, at least, I got a great glimpse of it with Henry and a few pictures to share.
