population 94,673
nickname: The People's Republic of Boulder
selling point: Mountains, open space, open "conscious" people
Boulder Creek is the essence of Boulder-- it carries the energy from the canyon, it's why Boulder exists. The Flatirons are cool, whatever, but Boulder Creek is Boulder's source. Chief Niwot and his Arapahoe people kept a camp here, where the canyon spills out onto the prairie. In the mid-19th-century, game was declining, his people began to starve... and in 1864, they were camped under a peaceful white flag at Sand Creek, after being promised safety & land by the government... and US troops slaughtered them.
So, Niwot's curse: as-the-story-goes, his curse is something like: People who see the beauty of this place will want to stay here, and their staying will be the undoing of the place. True or not? You decide. Boulder has a lot of progressive land-use policies; it also has a lot of people who talk about how great it was twenty-thirty-etc. years ago. The one thing the curse is testimony to, though, is the vortex-power of this town... people are drawn here, they learn things, and then they must leave again. It is a transient-town, but people aren't supposed to live here anymore than they are supposed to live in Sedona, Arizona-- some geographic spots are meant for visiting, not dwelling in, and the people who make them into a permanent home either become part of the spot in a very strange way, or they become deranged.
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field notes: boulder, colorado / overheard at Cafe Roma / 3 aug 2005
It is high noon and I can see the foothills in the distance. There are lavender plants and bright red gardenias and ants and the empty plate where a croissant was and the empty glass where my english breakfast tea was. The rainbow-hip professors who were talking about the decline of America, and the rise of China and our inevitable decline of standards of living, have left (after having decided that they want to retire early and be wealthy) (I am of course in Boulder Colorado today)... Now there is only one person who is speaking; the man smoking cigarettes at the table beside me. He speaks into the air in a kind of incantory way, sporadically, quiet & then the next burst happens -- & the intonation moves me to record these words -- do you see how they are a poem -- i know perhaps it is a violation to transcribe somebody's words but i felt compelled by the beauty of it.
because he don't let me pick on the regular people
back to the colorado travel guide /
back to the map
he let me pick on the holiest
with that big old congregation
he's still asking them to sow good seed
with that many people
he's still asking them to sow good seed
his nose turned red
do you know what he said
his father passed away
do you know what i said
i said i sleep one night
and heaven spoke to me
and said now you know why you don't have a father
heaven said you know why you don't have a father
and his father passed away
when i challenge i challenge big people
holiest
he's still asking for people to sow good seed
when there's that many people in your congregation
his wife saw me
and i know exactly why she acted like that
i know exactly why she acted like that
i didn't think like that
i never thought like that
that thought never crossed my mind
heaven spoke to me in my dream
i don't want to be here but i had to be pushed into a crowd
i don't want to be here but i been pushed into the crowd
because something deep inside of me told me not to attack
deep inside of me
i don't want to throw my world away
because you mean that much to me
i don't want to throw my world away because you mean that much to me
that's why i want to spend time alone