No matter how I might criticize America deep down at heart I am American....I place myself in the tradition of Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, Henry Miller, Jack Kerouac, Allan Ginsberg, Anne Waldman and Patti Smith...that is the transcendental tradition where the individual finds themselves alone by themselves deep in nature. I've lost many a hard drive over the years either from driving them to hard or being fucked and fucking up but here's a few that survived from a set that got fried...it was from a walk on a cold winters day down into the gorge to drink a twelve pack with my ipod and a pack of smokes...nuts, hell yeah but in the insanity is found deep beauty and I think this picture testifies to that...
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