Let me Eminate you a picture

They say a picture is worth a thousand words... Yes, this is true. Pictures can tell a story. But there are some stories a picture cannot tell. Only words, spoken from the heart, can hint at expressing the richness of some things...

Like the tingling presence of condor spirits circling above an ancient Incan city.
Or the dense, impenetrable, enveloping darkness of the Amazon jungle, teeming with the symphonic cacophony of creatures unknown.
The downpour of crisp mountain rain into an ancient Andean lake, and the earth shattering crack of thunder in its company, which vibrates every cell to the bone.
The soothing silence of an underwater paradise, teeming with rainbow fish and dancing coral.
The cooling mist of a fifty foot waterfall, carrying freshly melted Andean snow.
The chaos and calamity of a colorful bus ride, zipping through curvy mountain passes and by steep cliffs.
The expression on a child's face in a small impoverished island village, as a strange and colorful foreigner walks by.
The movement and vividness of feathers and bangles on a queen samba dancer, strutting her stuff in a carnival parade.
The potent wisdom and magic behind the eyes of a loving Shipibo mamita, as she sings her magic songs into every cell of your being.
The synchronicity of stumbling across an undiscovered ruin and pondering its story.
And the magic of a rainbow spreading its majesty full across the sky as a farewell kiss from the spirits of the heavens and the earth.

A picture cannot translate the subtle mixture of pride and desperation in a mothers eyes as she sells her handmade masterpiece to you for pennies to feed her family.
Nor can it capture the teeming vibration of ancient plant communication in la Selva.
It cannot tell you the eerie wailing sound of howler monkeys, nor the soothing clack of a horses hooves.
It cannot sing to you the ancient songs of the land and its people, nor the complex intertwining rhythm of the medicine drum and flute.

My camera did not capture my dark nights of solitude and doubt and introspection.
The complete collapse and surrender to the earth as I crawled, weak and delirious, through mud and vines.
Countless moments of utter peace and silence, magic and pure presence.

I could not photograph my visions of archangels and demons, of extra terrestrials and multi colored mandalas, of ancient magic and beyond-earthly realms.
The feelings of complete contentedness, fulls ascension, deep healing, and undeniable LOVE.

No, a picture cannot tell the story of the breakdown, the battle, the revelation, and the breakthrough...
Even words cannot fully describe these things, so profound that they alter perspectives and lives.

And so, with no more pictures to show, I will be more honest, and offer my words, in the hope of reaching a tiny bit closer to the truth of these journeys...

A picture is worth a thousand words, a thousand words can tell a story, but the story is a mere shadow in the light of the personal journey, the direct experience. 

Therein lies the real, everlasting treasure...