the youngest desert in the world

a long time ago i met an older man named Randy Lada in a tattoo shop. he was jokingly introduced to me as 'mookfish in the future' for a handful of reasons and i greeted this as a well deserved compliment for both of us, he was pretty damn cool. Mr. Lada was an experienced traveler who had visited many different corners of this earth and he was completely covered in beautiful tattoos from all over the world. he was perhaps sixty although somehow seemed younger and older at the same time. he was quite interested in my coming travels, which back then was a preparation for central america. i took everything he said with wide eyes and i didn't speak much.. he asked me why we travel and suggested that we are trying to find ourselves. for months i thought this was too simple to bear any water but the older i get the more i realize that this is a very complicated idea. you see, to find yourself you must first lose yourself completely. you must challenge things you believe and greet the world with wider eyes with every waking moment although the stains of time make our eyelids heavy. you lose yourself and you do things that would have disappointed you so much in the days of your young idealism.. i was once such an idealist.. but you learn from these mistakes and you learn from your failures. the deeper i get into this world, the more people from my home become a part of me. i remember things i've learned from them and here in the desert i begin to realize why things came to be when they did and why did they. i see every experience in life i've ever had to be an eclectic mix of useful knowledge that comes with me everywhere.

it is in this fullness of heart that i find myself east of aral, due directly for lake balkhash. everything in between is basically the surface of mars, soviet desolation and merciless heat. years ago the soviets attempted to use the aral sea to irrigate the lands thus growing cotton which was thought of as 'white gold' at the time. the project failed and the seas would eventually lead to desertion and the advent of one of the greatest man-made environmental disasters in history. its sad really but quite peculiar to myself when i set up tent at the bottom of the sea, in the youngest desert in the world.

things became different when i got to kazakh. my face shifted. my expressions became limited and i began to talk less. the thrill of georgian tbilisi has worn off and suddenly i feel again like a visitor from another planet. realistically, this is the farthest i've ever been from home. i miss everyone. i'm beat up but going strong and the stars fall into place when its their time to do so.

when you change cities in kazakh you also change colors. the eerie brown of desolation in the desert turns into green again. where there is water there is life and the colors and sounds of man-made earth begins to lure you back in with the temptations to indulge in life.. i'm going to get an ice cream..