Stifling and Space

Stifling and Space
Erin Gould
September 23, 2018
Wild Rivers

Yi-Fu Tuan in Space and Place says that "solitude is a condition for acquiring a sense of immensity," as our thoughts around other "are pulled back by an awareness of the other personalities who project their own worlds onto the same space." 

While at Wild Rivers, I spent as much time as I could sitting alone with my feet dangling over edges  of rocky cliffs, listening to and tasting the wind coming up from the river. Though I was sick and so disappointed to never be well enough to make the trek down to the Rio Grande or the Red River, I reveled in the openness, expansiveness, and sense of freedom I felt in those quite moments with 800 feet of vertical breathing room.

"Space, a biological necessity to all animals, is to human beings also a psychological need, a social perquisite, and even a spiritual attribute." 

The space (both physical and temporal) I took was a vital mental breath, a resetting from the pressure constraints of such close social and creative contact with a very small group of people that I did not know well and with whom I did not feel entirely comfortable expressing my full range of emotions. 

Stifling is the word that comes to mind when I think of that week at Wild Rivers. The gorge saved me, the wind refreshed me, the light moving above/ through/ over the immensity of open air created by that ancient rift in the earth's crust, displaying a history of change and movement more enormous than I can comprehend, kept me grounded when my most basic needs, alone time and a non-fever/ mucus/ misery ridden body, were often inaccessible. 

(Did you know that some of the piñon and juniper forests at this site contain trees that are 500 years old or that the Taos Plateau volcanic field has some 22-million-year-old volcanic vents or that some scientists believe that the Rio Grande Rift will become an ocean several million years from now?)



Tuan, Yi-Fu. Space and Place: the Perspective of Experience. University of Minnesota Press, 2014.

root

nicholas b. jacobsen
root
Wild Rivers
September 21, 2018


*This is a poem inspired by roots, the theme of this year's Neo Rio.
(Included is a mental map of roots.)

what is root?
a noun and a verb
a division and connection
a path and a past
orgin and an end

the root word
of
the word root
also means branch
roots branching out as tree branches branch
into the air
gathering clouds, seeding rain, feeding roots
of rocks, rivers, flora, fauna,
us

my family roots are twisted
spread 'cross ocean and
blood lines pulsing in my veins
rooting my to others,
uprooted as we settled
divided as we spread

beet roots uprooted remind me of home
my step-dad always hated them
with him we were uprooted from the place i was born
i'm rooted, now, there
to the red rocks where we moved
and found family elsewhere
as i continue
uprooting
rerooting
carrying
home with me
in the iron in my blood, red
as the ground where i grew

i now live where route 66
and the rio grande
intersect.
the road connects
east to west
the river divides
U.S. from them

rooting around in my mind
which is rooted in my nerves
ending in my soles
rooted in the soil
grounding me here
with you

Sky Roots

Sky Roots 

by Blaise Koller 

Wild Rivers 

12 September 2018,  

Brionna and I have been sleeping and camping the last couple nights out on this ledge overlooking the gorge at Wild Rivers. The view is insane. When looking out over the gorge, you can see the other side of it, 1,000 feet below, and the sky stretches in front, to the sides, and above you to infinity. The first evening before the sun went down, I laid on the ground and felt my tired body sinking into the rocks below me, while the clouds lifted my perception up and outwards to their heights. We set up our tents near the edge, but beyond that there was this little squarish space that was perfectly sized for two people. It was surrounded by large rocks on all sides. The first night, Brionna and I pulled our mats and sleeping bags out to that little space on the edge and slept under the stars.  

That night- 

The stars and milky way are endless, and it gives one the impression of floating, since you can't see anything below but black. I've never slept in such an expansive, boundless place, and it feels so opening and also a bit scary and vulnerable. The ledge has a slight incline that points down to the ground far below. It's very slight, but you can feel it. But there are rocks to hold you in, and I haven't really been slipping, so it feels oddly safe at the edge. But I can't completely let go of the fear of tumbling off and thinking of the fragility of my body if these huge rocks underneath me were tumbling over me. This morning waking up, there was not a cloud in the sky. Not one. The colors of the sunrise gradated from light pink to light blue, changing every minute.