What's in a moment

A flash of colors and air whizzed past my face as I hit the ground. I rolled over and stood up, taking a second to collect myself. The fall itself didn’t scare me; it was the look on their faces. “Are you okay man?” Said asked. I was fine. I could see how it looked bad. The landing zone was riddled with jagged rocks protruding from the earth. Taking a deep breath and wiping sweat from my brow I wondered, ”Why do I do this?”

It’s an interesting question. I climb rocks for thrills. Not only that, the bigger the better. Am I crazy? I willingly put myself at risk. But when I really think about it, it is so much more than that.

There is something to be said about functioning within a moment. Seeing the world through a pinhole. My sole focus the movement. In these fleeting moments, I find freedom. A sense of peace and solace. Although the consequences are very real, the dream-like state of fluidity, of movement, seems to wash away the stresses of modern life. Sure, I sit at a desk for 40 hours a week – but on the weekends I become a different person. I like that my finger tips hurt against the familiar keystrokes. Maybe this brush with danger serves as a reminder that I am still quite alive. Despite the monotony of Monday through Friday.

Fall in the Flatirons

On a brisk fall morning, the foothills that surround Boulder seem to glow with a sublime feel. With the work-day hustle buzzing below, the simple freedom of a blue sky and the open expanse calls.



(Dean Ronzoni on an unnamed V5 on the cube boulder)

A much need dose of solace...
making the next day at the office that much easier.

A little history...

As the country ushers in the first African American President, it seems to create an interesting introspective climate. Whether you agree or disagree with the incumbent president - one is certainly forced to think about what this means historically and culturally

In this country, we like to label. My label is a Mexican American. Barak is an African American. Oddly enough some folks are just Americans. In America, the intersection of race, culture and our apparent differences have brought us to this tense, school-yard staring contest. One that has been swept under the rug of our "great" country for some time. So, these labels help us deal with our differences, by making generalizations. Making "cultural" or "racial" understanding easier on ourselves - or so we function, anyway.

But wait. In America, seriously - like a few days ago - a "black" man was elected to the highest office in the free world.

As I watched a sea of people rejoice, come together, cry - filled with a renewed hope, conviction and inspiration - something changed. Sure, the labels may still be there. But this step, this cultural leap is nothing short of amazing. We saw this man for his ideals, looking within and not focusing on the outward. We were able to come together. We are progressing. It's about time.