The Atheist’s Prayer

Transcendence Happens

So it was I found myself driving out through the barren desert, all the way across the county line, a full 20 minutes from home, in search of Fish Rocks, the subject of a nice black and white t-shirt worn by a customer at Oft-Maligned, the place I work.

Yes, I know. But you never know. It felt like the stubborn curiosity would not let me be satisfied until I had taken a look for myself.

As is usual for me, the desert views relieved internal pressure, rather how I imagine a brain massage would feel. The terrain, bland on the surface, swirling myriads of beauty on closer inspection, had me bowing my head – not a deep bow as I was driving and had to keep my eyes on the road – and I Namaste’d to mark the jolt I felt from finding unexpected beauty so close to home.

Alas, Fish Rocks were a disappointment. I couldn’t find a place to park and get out, so there are no pictures, let alone a sketch. How could something so aRichardBurtonAug17 (1)nticlimactic have made it on to a t-shirt? Oh, the agony of living in the desert where we’ll celebrate just about anything.

Okay. Celebrating isn’t a bad thing, so Yeah! for the t-shirt that inspired me to drive out and take a look. I was disappointed in Fish Rocks, and still found unexpected beauty.

Back at home I put on some slightly wonky sounding Grateful Dead (6-19-76 – Capitol Theatre), made a single layer cake, and sketched Richard Burton as he appeared in The Sandpiper (1965).

To give some perspective, here’s what I was doing a year ago – you can say it, I have a whacked perspective.


I missed transcendence again, but did get in some good dancing.


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