Sunrise with Georgia (de Chaco)

“I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life – and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do”. – Georgia O’Keeffe

“When there’s nothing left to do I pray for sunrise”. – Scott Stapp

The shades of desert night are birthed before the dawn, with a shard of red that beckons on, and on, and I think I’m in de Chaco, in my bare feet, without grace, and my heart withdrawn. I cannot see the reason why, but still, I think it’s my way of life. And to my right O’Keeffe she smiles, “I’m putting touches with my paint, let’s watch it dry”, her voice like a sound of lightning, “let’s let it dry. “there’s a lesson son in dreams to those who wait”. “Some terrified in moments before they see the paint”.

It could have been the pizza, of just the night before, but chills just don’t seem suited, to this vision, what is it for? The silence in the statues of the rocks where the dark angels died, the ark of the holy covenant rises fire from the eastern sky. It is such a mystery, mystery, with the ruins, gone by. My G_D to thee this morning when I’m born to die, is in a dream that you look me in the eye.

“It is a duty to paint her face”, says a dreamlike “Georgia” turning the brush like my fate. Those hands were pictures, I start to say, but it’s not important when you’re in this place. “Oh G_D you’re an element, in this dream, before the canyons and my dried streams, of hopes and thoughts about where I’ve been, from the top of a mountain, to the taste of sin. “A turn of her shoulder brings a certain pink”, says Georgia, whispering, as between her teeth. I haven’t thought to question, for my mind is a whirl, why G_D has chosen a dead painters world. But back to the silence of the morning that is, with de Chaco moving in my soul somewhere within. “The rising of the child is what you want to see”, suddenly Georgia’s voice is distant outside of me. For the walls of nature rise and arc and stand, before creation’s first thought of first man.

“No dark valley”, Georgia whispers to me, and I turn, and she’s gone, instead there’s just a pinon tree, but I turn again, and what I love the most, is “Adonai” that brought me shining down his ghost. Unto you all my whispers, and all my errant dreams, you of blended cells of mystery, that makes a child of me. For here in de Chaco in the sunrise of the worlds, all suddenly O’Keeffe’s words come into my heart and swirl. “I’m putting touches with my paint” a voice rumbles in my dream, it’s been drying in the desert while you walk in your sleep. I brought you to my birthplace here, the land an inward sea. And though I think I am asleep, the day awakens me from my keep, and all I hated has gone away, the black and white of my mistakes. A sunrise color like Georgia makes, has painted me with the coat of many colors for my destiny, the coat of many colors for my destiny! – 02.18.2018 – דָּנִיֵּאל

75 thoughts on “Sunrise with Georgia (de Chaco)

  1. My dear brother, it would appear this is your greatest adventure yet, and from it has sprung your blessing, and it holds your answer. Shavua tov my friend. Shalom, Dennis


      • Dear Daniel, I too awoke with that spry feeling, perhaps we are on the same journey as I have long suspected we are. I thank you for the companionship and great words of wisdom that sustain us as we travel. 😉


  2. When I first started to read this, I wondered how you would tie it together, and by the end of it, it didn’t matter, because it all was in harmony. This was so beautiful Daniel it brought me to tears.


  3. At the risk of sounding the same way every time I comment on your post, I love this. Your world is always full of surprises and I am grateful you choose to share them with your readers. This is a new favorite for today. ❤ ❤ ❤


  4. “The phantasmagorias of dream and vision are of “subtle matter.” Extremely fluent and mercurial, they are not illuminated, like gross objects, from without, but are self-luminous. Moreover, their logic is not that of Aristotle. In dream, we all know, the subject and object are not separate from each other—though they seem so to the dreamer—but identical; and two or more objects, furthermore, not only can but always do occupy the same place at the same time. The images, that is to say, are polysynthetic and polysemantic—and, I might add, in both aspects inexhaustible when analyzed from the standpoint of waking consciousness.” – Joseph Campbell – who was very well writing about you sir. This is great!


    • My friend, you quote from a person I most admire for so many reasons, when you are reviewing my work. May I say I am humbled and grateful to you. Wishing you a great week ahead with your girls Wang, thanks again. 🙂


  5. Daniel I am always stunned by your use of adjectives and descriptors, putting metaphors and parables in a story. Most of all I am amazed by how you weave the mystic into your prose, leaving me to gain something that I will always take with me. I loved this piece, as well as any other you have written, and perhaps more. ❤ Ruby


  6. When I was a kid, my dad would drive the family from our home in Winslow to various canyon parks in Arizona and New Mexico. I remember us visiting Chaco and dad pointing out the way the sun danced off of the rock formations. Your post brought a flood of memories to me. Thank you. ❤


  7. I just arrived at your blog on a previous piece you had posted about Chaco Canyon. I adore your writing. The use of language to convey messages from the spirit you have nailed down. 🙂 I look forward to reading more of what you have to say.


    • Thank you Resa, I love that “coat of many colors” one of the greatest reasons I am drawn to your work so often, obviously you get it. 😉 How did you know I love Ray Charles, and yes it would have been appropriate. 🙂


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