Ginna mentioned how she had previously been in both the Rockies and the Alps. Now that she is in the Andes, she is aware of how each group of mountains are different from the other. Each region has its own characteristics and features: not unlike the people that thrive amongst them. If I worshipped the ancient gods, I suppose I would believe the mountains were reflections of the unique personalities of each one of the local deities.
The largest mounts here stand as if they were a presence, or a personality of their own. I’m writing this in my sketchpad, because, for me to attempt to draw them here, would be an act motivated purely by vain ambition.
If this architecture is art, I suppose my act of photographing it is simply and attempt or desire to capture, broadcast, or continue the spirit of that art form. I suppose the act of photographing nature is no different. Here, amidst the Incan ruins, I do not have to choose between the two, making this place all the more unique than most of the rest of the world, and all the more enjoyable to capture, for I see both the landscape and this city as artistic expressions of intelligent creators.
           
Among these Inca ruins, the architecture seems to blend right in with the landscape. The Incans are known for two things concerning their building. They mold their works around the landscape as opposed to changing the landscape to fit their own plans, and they are one of the closest to perfection in its simplicity, soundness, and durability; surviving earthquakes, erosion, and the elements. Only man has corrupted it in all these years. What if we were to mold our own lives in concordonance with the Creator’s will, like the Incas did their building to nature. Would we be so enduring in our own lives?