Space--as Landscape, Terrain, Spectacle, Experience--has Vanished.

For Many Years, I Have Been Moved By The Blue At The Far Edge Of What Can Be Seen, That Color Of Horizons, Of Remote Mountain Ranges, Of Anything Far Away. The Color Of That Distance Is The Color Of An Emotion, The Color Of Solitude And Of Desire, The Color Of There Seen From Here, The Color Of Where You Are Not. And The Color Of Where You Can Never Go.

To Lose Yourself: A Voluptuous Surrender, Lost In Your Arms, Lost To The World, Utterly Immersed In What Is Present So That Its Surroundings Fade Away. In Benjamin’s Terms, To Be Lost Is To Be Fully Present, And To Be Fully Present Is To Be Capable Of Being In Uncertainty And Mystery.

Solitude In The City Is About The Lack Of Other People Or Rather Their Distance Beyond A Door Or Wall, But In Remote Places It Isn’t An Absence But The Presence Of Something Else, A Kind Of Humming Silence In Which Solitude Seems As Natural To Your Species As To Any Other, Words Strange Rocks You May Or May Not Turn Over.

The Oil Corporations Spend A Lot Of Money To Get, Say, The Tar Sands Pipeline Through, But Nobody's - You Know, There Are Definitely Environmentalists Being Paid - But A Lot Of People Are Acting For Something Other Than Financial Compensation. So If The Tar Sands Pipeline Doesn't Get Made, It's Because A Huge Amount Of People Are Doing Something That Doesn't Involve Remuneration, Money, Etc., Because We're Not Actually The Self-interested Financial Instruments That Economists Like To Imagine We Are.

Every Walker Is A Guard On Patrol To Protect The Ineffable.