Everything happens for a reason, and part of that beauty of life is that we're not allowed to know those reasons for certain.

What you're looking at there is my arm, going into the rock... and there it is, stuck. It's been without circulation for twenty-four hours. It's pretty well gone.

I feel like I'm climbing as well, if not better, than ever.

It adds up, but I deem it all necessary, even the camera gear. I enjoy photographing the otherworldly colors and shapes presented in the convoluted depths of slot canyons and the prehistoric artwork preserved in their alcoves.

We are not grand because we are at the top of the food chain or because we can alter our environment - the environment will outlast us with its unfathomable forces and unyielding powers. But rather than be bound and defeated by our insignificance, we are bold because we exercise our will anyway, despite the ephemeral and delicate presence we have in this desert, on this planet, in this universe.

Judging by my degradation in the last 24 hours, I'll be surprised if I make it to Tuesday.

When we find inspiration, we need to take action for ourselves and for our communities. Even if it means making a hard choice, or cutting out something and leaving it in your past.