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| Happy Gibbon |
Do you ever visualize yourself as something else? Often? All the time? I was thinking about being under twenty last night, the moon was out down blasting weird memory rays, and a barn owl kept on cruising the lane, like the ghost of yesterdays dreams.
So yes I would like to be young hitch hiking through Spain, in the mid seventies without a care, and the world could have been younger in my dreams, also. And then, maybe I could have done great ascents////
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| Female Gibbon |
So I visited my barn, tried to tidy it up, it was a mess:::////
Mark was wandering around looking like one of the walking dead, Laurence was mixing cement. I stared at my damp neglected campus board, the numerous weights rusting in the hay, lead weights had peeled off a decayed divers belt, a mess//////
So I cleaned it up, and visualized myself as a Gibbon, not a Chimpanzee, and certainly not the baboon I am, after all, the ground liking Gorilla is gone, I hope.
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| Female Gibbon on acid |
Chimpanzodrome was/is a nasty overhanging 7c+ from the old days, probably the first 7c+ ever to be used for training, soloed, and once done with a bag over the head. Yesterday I felt Gibbonesque, the rise and fall of the Sabart roof was the breath of the dragon. I need to get swinging, I need power, I need bananas, Swingdance coming soon, I am de King of de Jungle, an overhang VIP.
