I did go to the Four Corners once with a friend. Unfortunately, I didn't feel much of anything. I mean, they have this circle where the four states meet and a bunch of State Police officers from the different jurisdictions like if it would be the border between North and South Korea just in case someone steals sopapillas?

But I would say the West itself has a different energetic charge than many other places in the world. I think this used to be the bottom of the ocean many geologic eras ago. Or not many, because geologic eras are super long, but you get the idea.

And the fact that it is so isolated and distant, to the point in which when you drive, you pause about the distances and emptiness of the space, that it is really like a blank canvas all open to possibilities.

But I don't think the car makes justice to the West. It shrinks it.

Nor, flying, well, maybe flying. A couple of times when flying between Chicago and the East Coast, I noticed there are a lot of airports all over, and makes me think, "if there is an emergency, we can pick where to put this plane down" (I'm not a pilot, but I consider these things, just in case, makes me feel better!). In the West, when flying between Albuquerque and Dallas, we go over maybe 2-3 airports with a couple of houses around them! Just pick a nice straight line of the highway, and you'll be fine!

So, yes. The West opens up all these possibilities. New beginnings, this almost unpleasant need to find yourself in the midst of the distance and apparent emptiness where life somehow sprouts in ways that are not what we expect.

Sorry for the long response! I know, I should make this a post! I was actually driving from Colorado back to Albuquerque yesterday, but I did a long detour around Colorado. Beautiful drive. But I was sort of thinking about this, and that I should write a poem, it would begin:

The car doesn't do justice to the vastness of the West...

Thank you again for engaging and tolerating my ramblings, Sydney!

Pablo