Mammoth Mountain Camping - Part II

There's this idea in the minimalist art movement that the seeming simplicity of the art causes the observer to enter a type of meditative, contemplative state that they otherwise would not have have accessed without the help of the particular piece of art being observed.

We loved walking to Black Velvet Coffee every morning.

A long time ago, I spent about a year or so obsessively making weird electronic music with this very same idea in mind: make the music so repetitive, so simple yet dense, so minimalistic, that it would push the listener into a type of boredom that causes their mind to wander. Just think: to, in its own way, have the power to cause someone's mind to journey off and think about... anything. And that "anything" could be something they've never thought about before, or some decision they were hesitant about making, or... anything! Kinda seductive, huh?

But in the end most of my listeners only thought one thing: this fuckin sucks.

Eh. What can you do?

The minimalist art sentiment is one I carry over into being in nature. It subdues my mind. Amongst the tress and dead leaves and long grasses and frigid lakes and babbling brooks and chirping birds and the loud silence... I become subdued. My heart is set at ease. My mind becomes unrestrained; no longer burdened by the requirements of reality.

The meadow near Gull Lake is maybe Pumpkin's favorite place on Earth.

Although I'm a pretty introspective and contemplative guy normally, I become more so while in nature. It's deliberate. I want to slow down. I have to slow down. What if I miss a little bee landing on a flower? What if I fail to notice the sap on the trunk of a tree? What if I don't hear the whistling of the breeze through the pine needles?

I often find myself creatively reinvigorated by a trip into nature. Not so much inspired, but... refreshed. Like my mind has been pruned; it can breathe freely.

Ok, enough of the sappy stuff.

All the pictures here were taken while spending a day on the June Lake Loop. Beautiful place. Obvs.

Making sure there's nothing in the water that could attack us.

Late into the afternoon, we more or less found ourselves driving into the Tioga Pass entrance of Yosemite National Park. Believe it or not, it was our first time in Yosemite. Pumpkin's presence, though, meant that we more or less couldn't venture very far into many spots, but that's fine. There's always next time.