Matthew Gallaway

Fall Is a Season for the Gods

(cont.) "When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to move north, not because I didn't like my family, but because I wanted to live where the trees turned color. Bright red and orange, like the pictures I saw." "To me, these colors were unfamiliar. As I thought about seeing them in person, I knew I would believe in something new and omnipotent. These colors were evidence of the divine." "Looking back, I now see that there was plenty of evidence of the divine where I lived, but it was too familiar to notice." "I could only see the gods -- or their work -- from a distance." "That's how I felt for a long time. I was always moving to new places, immersing myself into the magic until -- as it always does -- the magic wore off and I would have to search for it somewhere else." "Then I learned that the outside world is a mirror of the one that exists inside of me, and vice versa." "I stopped running. I didn't need to go anywhere ever again." "Like the trees in the fall, I was preparing to die. I'm not frightened of death -- or life -- anymore. It's a cycle, right? Our bodies go back to the earth and we sleep until -- in some form or another -- we're reborn. It's so simple, the only thing I can't believe is that it took me a lifetime to figure out."

Pictures of Fort Tryon Park taken on September 24, 2016. Text excerpted from The #Gods Project: A Training Manual (Section 2, "Interviews with the Institutionalized.")

A Horrible Flight (Via Delta) Can At Least Make a Garden Seem That Much More Magical

This past week I went to Seattle for business. While flying is almost unbearable in the modern era -- thanks to two-hour delays in both directions, sold-out flights, and miserly airlines -- it still can inspire moments of awe as we consider the scale of the earth and our manipulation of it. Here are the mountains and the clouds. I felt very cheated by Delta, because I paid for an upgrade to 'Delta Comfort,' which is supposed to offer extra legroom (among other things); on the way out, the seat was wide and there was plenty of legroom, but on the way back, the seat was no different than coach and there was basically no legroom thanks to the seat's position behind the bulkhead of the exit door. I wrote to Delta to complain and received an automated message apologizing for the delay but not addressing my complaint about Delta Comfort. Maybe you're familiar with this particular form of extortion, but if not, be aware! It was nice to get home, in any case. The garden was peaceful. The pre-autumn light seeped down through the clematis. 
Even Dante felt slightly reborn after the heat of summer. As always, I made it to Fort Tryon Park for a run. It was very early, so the light was subdued. Except for a few pools, where the flowers lit up. The morning shadows are the quietest of all shadows. A dahlia in bloom. A path to the light.

The Gods Walked Out of the Sea

(cont.) "I didn't even see the ocean until I was in my twenties, but when I did, I knew I couldn't ever leave." "It's horrible that we're killing so many of the beautiful things that live in it." "But that's what we do, right? We can't stop. We're addicts." "And as any addict can tell you, eventually you're going to have to stop or you're going to die." "I bet I know what the ocean wants to happen. (Laughs.)" "But there are other creatures in the ocean who aren't so docile, who aren't waiting to die." "I don't know where they live, I just know they've been coming ashore." "If you know where to look, you'll see the signs. Very faint, but there." "They're like human footprints but not as heavy." "They come out of the sea and then they go back." "Eventually they're going to stay, though. I really believe that." "How do I know? I don't. If you want pictures or videos, I don't have them. Like I said, it's what I believe." "But I saw them once, too, so I believe in my eyes." "It was after I moved here. I was probably in my early 30s because I was working at a bar and when I got out I used to go to the beach. This one night I fell asleep in the dunes and was woken up by some rustling and the sound of voices." "There was a group of them walking by." "They looked like people but they were glowing." "They didn't have any clothes on, which is how I knew they came out of the water." "It hurt my eyes to keep looking at them, but I couldn't stop, either." "They were like shadows come to life, if shadows were made of light." "I could hear them talking, but I couldn't understand any of the words." "It just sounded very old. It was like being in an ancient forest or in the desert. You don't need a scientist to tell you that these parts of the earth are much older than we are or ever will be. We're interlopers compared to a lot of things." "And these beings -- whatever or whoever they were -- came from this time. They were old, maybe immortal. I sat there for a few hours until they came back and gathered on the edge of the shore. The sun had turned the horizon red and they disappeared into the mists." Pictures of the Atlantic Ocean taken in July, 2016. Text excerpted from The #Gods Project: A Training Manual (Section 2, "Interviews with the Institutionalized.")

Fort Tryon Park, September 3, 2016 (Notes on the Present Value)

(cont.) "For a long time, I followed the campaigns and researched the candidates, trying to figure out which one most closely reflected my values. I argued with people and tried to make them see my position on things." "If I learned that someone forgot to vote or was too lazy -- say they just didn't bother -- I would tell them they were being irresponsible. They were bad citizens, in my mind, and I wasn't afraid to tell them so. It was the arrogance of youth. Or maybe the insecurity, if there's a difference." "I even used to repeat that bullshit line about how it doesn't matter who you vote for, so long as you vote." "In reality I had been brainwashed and one day it was clear to me. What happened? Well, I happened to be leaving a certain kind of establishment and some local toughs had decided they didn't like my stride. Wrong place, wrong time, but I learned something important." "Which was that my great voting record didn't matter one bit when I was choking on my own front teeth. Generally speaking? Maybe it matters a little -- if you're talking about a life in a vacuum -- but in the real world, I can think of about things that matter more than voting. A lot more." "Like what? (Laughs.) Well, I guess that depends on the person and your circumstances. But maybe don't go around beating people up because you think it makes you a 'man.' Or maybe if you want to help society, not reproducing would make a greater contribution to the well-being of the earth than voting. I know, I'm 'extreme' but if you care one bit about the future, what possible argument could you possibly make for having a kid when there are probably millions of them you could adopt? Seriously, is your DNA so miraculous that it needs to be passed on?" "The way I see it, one of our biggest problems -- as a species -- is that we think way too much about the future instead of just focusing on the present, like most animals do. The ability to anticipate the future is too often used as an excuse to avoid addressing problems now." "So that's why I don't vote anymore. In here, it doesn't matter. I'm not going anywhere. I don't even read the newspapers anymore." "What most people forget is that we -- like every single one of our institutions -- have an expiration date. We live for a while and then we die." "Which creates an obligation to enjoy the present. Not in a fuck-you-trash-the-environment sense -- because that creates ugliness now -- but in a way that respects the earth, which is the second closest thing to immortality we have, and is reflected in its natural form, as anyone who's ever taken a walk through a quiet forest understands." "What's the closest? [Laughs.] You know where we are and why I'm here. You're the one who asked to talk to me. But that's okay -- I don't mind, I can tell you what I'm sure you want to here. It's because I've seen enough to know that everything's mortal except for the gods." Pictures taken in Fort Tryon Park on September3, 2016. Text excerpted from The #Gods Project: A Training Manual (Section 2, "Interviews with the Institutionalized.")