dear

for quite a while, some years now, at least, i have been experience things of a grand nature through the quiet act of letterheadwriting. this happens on hikes through redwoods and grand canyons, or on foriegn treks, or sometimes even in board meetings. it consists of my writing a letter of my experiences while simultaneously experiencing them. the letter may be a to friend, or to family (as was often the case when i first arrived in cali and wanted to let them know how blown away and pleased i was with it all). the actual pen to paper rarely happens, and that´s fine with me. to write a letter that has already been written is tedious, and it never has the life of the original.

separate but similar in some ways to the letterheadwriting is the pure imagination of a person being there with you. for example, just walking through the streets with your imaginary friend by your side, laughing along with you at the hijinx you and your comrade would be certain to find hilarious.

i´ve been thinking on these activities lately. wondering whether they are detrimental. it´s natural (¿) to desire to share experiences with others. and since the l.h.w. has been going on for a long time, i´ve rationalized it to be an understanding of the way i process all that i may see and do and feel. but the latter, therin lies the greater danger, methinks. solo traveling means solo. when removed, it seems like a feeling of reliance when i have a phantom lover by my side. perhaps it is just a manifestation of missing, but it doesn´t have any of the melancholy of missing. though they bring me joy when i am on my own, i would like to resolve to say hello to those imaginary friends when they cross my path, and keep on walking. hands in pockets instead of hand in hand. very tough.

while hiking today, i discovered unexpectedly a solution to the question that has plagued me since beginning a blog. as to whom, or for whom am i writing? the answer lies somewhere inbetween l.h.w. and a white screen.