Onion Domes, again

"...He closed his hand on the twenty copecks, walked on for ten paces, and turned facing the Neva, looking towards the palace. The sky was without a cloud and the water was almost bright blue, which is so rare in the Neva. The cupola of the cathedral...glittered in the sunlight, and in the pure air every ornament on it could be clearly distinguished...He stood still, and gazed long and intently into the distance; this spot was especially familiar to him. When he was attending the university, he had hundreds of times--generally on his way home--stood still on this spot, gazed at this truly magnificent spectacle and almost always marvelled at a vague and mysterious emotion it roused in him. It left him strangely cold; this gorgeous picture was for him blank and lifeless. He wondered every time at his sombre and enigmatic impression and, mistrusting himself, put off finding the explanation of it. He vividly recalled those old doubts and perplexities, and it seemed to him that it was no mere chance that he recalled them now. It struck him as strange and grotesque that he should have stopped at the same spot as before, as though he actually imagined he could think the same thoughts, be interested in the same theories and pictures that had interested him...so short a time ago...Deep down, hidden far away out of sight all that seemed to him now--all his old past, his old thoughts, his old problems and theories, his old impressions and that picture and himself and all, all...He felt as though he were flying upwards, and everything were vanishing from his sight..."~~~Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

Reading Dostoevsky and I am suddenly walking along the naberezhnie outside of the university, making my way home though the bitter cold after choir rehearsal with a tune still strumming at my lips. The frigid night wind pulls at my scarf and I walk a little faster, screw my eyes closed and run across the street towards the strelki of Vasilievsky Ostrov. St. Petersburg herself strums and night rhythm and the ice flows on the river Neva whisper, battling the stars for command of the thundering evening silently. Facing now the krepost Petra Pavlovskova with the river on one side of me and the canals of the islands on the other and I can see for miles in the crystalline reflection of the fortress. The bridge itself hums beneath my feet in the wind and the traffic, and I continue anxiously past the casino and it's cabal of resident thugs through the dark and deserted streets.

I remember the air that evening, sort of solid, ice-cold, and almost human. It is so cold that my nose hurts, and I wrap tighter in wool, and quicken my step even further. I have a penchant for jumping at the slightest sign of life--every shadow is alive in the thick darkness, and I have been well-trained. Crossing the threshold between the dvor and the soft pillowy heat of our apartment is like a border to a foreign land, chai waits, and conversation. Yet my mind lingers on Nikolaevsky bridge, wrapped in the panorama of the city, of the darkness, of Russia herself.

Hoy dia hay sol...

Ya se acabo la cita del bosque, y en vez de eso yo hizo una встреча с Дашой, la asistente de ruso de este a~no. Solo problomatico porque уж дольго хотела я quitar la universidad para la noche. Pero me quede, no estudiendo o leyondo como deberia...Me siento afuera tomando el sol, escuchando la musica de algunas bandas de jazz que estan practicando у Эванса. La lluvia va a empecer завтра, creo, y por eso hay muchos que andan por alli disfrutandose. Tengo que прочитать много este noche, de ese libro odioso, de algunas cientas paginas, pero no puedo ense~narme que debo начинать. Estoy so~nandome de los dias lindos que voy a pasar под солнцем уж скоро, y quisiera hacer бегать, pero yo se que тем луче si no lo hago ahora, desafortunadamente.

This morning went as good as can be expected, I suppose. Nothing altogether new to report on the knee front--still fucked up. Ther is a slight possibility that my gait may be making things worse, and I may be looking at insoles or something for a while. I agreed to let him keep working on my knee for a little while longer, as much as it frusterates me. There is still some definite deficiency, and what I'm doing (or not doing) isn't making enough progress to rectify that.

I convinced myself that today was friday and tommorow I'd thus be free free free to roam as I pleased. Alas, no such luck, and a good chunk of Russian and statistics todavia стоят entre mi cuerpo, la mente, y los fines de semana.

К сожаленю...

Kind of Music

There is a someone emerging these glistening days, onethat I vaguely remember, onethat I am more than thrilled to re-make the acquaintance of. not even a week into being devoured by College Outdoors I am cheerfully adrift. The girl who led a dozen trips this summer (even though she was scared), the girl who poised threaded her way through Prague and those first foreign foibles, the one who fought doggedly to find truth in st. Petersburg, the one who battled the boys and took on the world way back when at the beginning of the drums and orchestras. Shes reemerged and desperately wants to frolic in the forests, and to be taken seriously. I led my first LC pretrip meeting tonight (OK so Marty and I together, and under the watchful eye of Joe of course), and I have to say it felt really really good. I think I did a good job setting everyone at ease, or atl east I hope so. I learned everyone's names, go through all the risks and logistics information pretty quickly. My spiel could definitly have been better organized, but not bad for the first time through. I cracked myself up privately in the middle of it, when I realized I had just taken a composite of all the best pre-trip meetings I rememberd, and was totally just parotting. I realized somewhere in the middle of pulling gear for people and pulling our group gear for Joe, how good I felt, how comfortable, how at home, how natural. I felt like I'd been doing it for years.

I've been trying to explain lately what kind of different person I am when I'm outdoors and active. How much better, but more than that how much more human I feel. When I'm working outdoors I am the best parts of myself, I feel whole.I am my strongest, most balanced, most vibrant, most self-aware. Outdoors I am focused, I am spontaneous, I am fearless. I am challenged, I am challenging. I am a person whome I enjoy being around. Outside I am in control of the darkness that even still threatens occasionally to encroach on my own horizons. Outside I solve problems, outside I move mountains, kiss boo-boos, hold the world together. Outdoors things don't seem to get to me so quickly, things remain in brilliant perspective. there is a clarity and serenity which I've yet to see paralleled in any other corner of my life, one which I cling to, and revel in. Tonight I had a past which I was proud of, and a future which I crave.

I get to live it this Sunday, tuesday, Saturday, tuesday, and all break. With any luck I'll make enough of a mark and they'll invite me for more come next month. It was cool though, tonight, I met the new warehouse guy and another assistant leader kid, both of whom seemed to know me already. I feel so connected to the outdoor kids, and that commonality is so soothing, and simaltaneously so fufilling.

I miss Chad. And the PT is checking out my knee at therapy in the morning. I'm nervous. I know that upping my mileage from like maybe two a week to 6 or 8 plus the hike onthe weekend is whats causing problems. But inactivity is no longer a viable option, more rest is not a good enough answer. I'm scared of what hes going to tell me, and of what that'll mean for my running and more importantly, my life outdoors. But tommorow is my first training for the Tryon nature guide gig, its late, and I'm doing my damndest to remain positive.