GATEWAY TO THE MOON

A great photo relative to the crap I snapped on my phone, but one that only but captures a bare fragment of the magnificence I witnessed just two days ago in St. Louis. It was one of those mind blowing moments one experiences but a few times in their lives, made all that much the more so due to the fact I was alone and had nobody to share it with.

Anyhow, it'd be a bit much to expect that the next time I visit St. Louis, if ever there is a "next time", I'll see the same thing, but if I do go there again, there ain't no way in hell I'll do so without a proper camera. But then again, maybe I won't...

To settle for the simple memory of an event without trying to recapture it can be a discipline all unto itself, it certainly has been for yours truly. Personally, I must admit I've suffered this strange tendency to recapture the past as though it held precedence over the present, where nothing could be further from the truth; and the only way to overcome such a tendency, I suppose would be to all the memory of the magical moment, whatever it may be, to exist unto itself, without having to be captured, commodified and bled of all its lifeblood.

In this instance it's the memory of a sultry summer's evening in St. Louis, as I drove the lonely streets in the ever elusive search for something strange and sublime; listening to Jeff Buckley sing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" as a warm bleeze blew it's blessings upon a heavy heart; and the decision arose to turn left on Market...only to be presented with an image that far surpassed anything I could ever have expected.

I could have turned right and missed out on the scene entirely. Sometimes it seems what's left is what's right and what's right, is what's left. An image emblazoned upon the landscape of time. A memory that will remain for years yet to come.