Shortly before the tournament, we all meet at the home of Burged (top, 2nd from left) where we crack open a bottle of vodka and prepare for an entire day of Shagaa.
12.14.2005
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Soon the child’s clear eye is clouded over by ideas and opinions, preconceptions and abstractions. Simple free being becomes encrusted with the burdensome armor of the ego. Not until years later does an instinct come that a vital sense of mystery has been withdrawn. The sun glints through the pines, and the heart is pierced in a moment of beauty and strange pain, like a memory of paradise. After that day . . . we become seekers. --Peter Matthiessen
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