The desert wind was non-existent which unsettled me to some degree, as I had dreamt of her on the flight as I grew constipated from the lack of oxygen and space and the ability to move my body in tune with the nerves that had swollen past recognition with a lack lustre friendly customs agent. He actually smiled at me when he spoke to me, inquired about my art work and asked for suggestions on where to go should he decide to stop being a chicken shit and get one himself... my body responded with a deep quizzical shutter and disbelief for more than a few hours.
He must have known where we were heading and what we would see once we got here. He must have known from behind his counter with his kindly old smile and easy tone about him. He must have known that soon enough we would see what he has come to know, that which has calmed him and saddened him at the same time... it was in his eyes really, tired old eyes, which had seen and felt so much change in his lifeblood country that we know this America is.
My America had changed.
The desert remained magical in all her mystery and beauty, but the city, the great American city has become something I had yet to see in her and I have seen her poverty; weak, tired, and hungry. But truly I have only known a prosperous America, my America, bold and blazing malls full of commerce and life and love for something beyond them...
I was unsure however, as we pulled our car into the parking lot and saw three stores alive while 10 had been stripped like the corpse of our enemy when our machine rolls through. The signs from above had been torn down - those which once glittered and shown like beacons through the dark times were blank leaving only a slight impression that something had existed before the brand new nothingness; the storefronts were empty of faces, naked of the signs for sales sales sales, and the parking lot hummed like a silent ghost town blowing dust in an absent wind. This small corner of a great city, where once lived our American dream snuck into the frontal lobe of my brain and sorrow filled the rest of me.
I said a prayer for all of our fellows who had no job and were desperate, as the driver pulled us out of there with much haste, as though he too felt the creeping realization that would solidify if we stayed too long and felt too much of what had been by consuming the aura of what is. I could not shake it while we drove and I feigned uncomfortable laugher; it crashed into my consciousness and would not leave even as we found another hub of consumerism I could not help but struggle through the wakeful dream coming to a head.
And then it happened... I searched the faces of my fellows as we walked often brushing past one another with smiles and excuse me's; I saw in their faces my America, a strong America, not unlike my fellows in Canada, but this is America... my America and I saw the fight, the mix of terror and struggle and a sense of relief in all that had happened and all that was to be for them and for us. There is a slight disconnect between the people and the situation to be sure, but this may be what makes all of us so resilient in our modern world.
We want what we want and we want it now yet deep inside we will wait when we have too wait. We will work like those before us who built this great machine and entrusted us to protect and enhance it. We will sit and smile whilst portions of our dying dream burn down, waiting for a replacement dream brought alive by our fellows.
My America sitting in the desert wind, I salute the people here; those who, like in my Canada, continue to grow and strengthen their resolve for the coming fight and the coming death of what was known for what will be. I am privileged to be a part of you and for good or ill my prayers are filled with your sons and daughters, your fathers and mothers...
David Lewry
He must have known where we were heading and what we would see once we got here. He must have known from behind his counter with his kindly old smile and easy tone about him. He must have known that soon enough we would see what he has come to know, that which has calmed him and saddened him at the same time... it was in his eyes really, tired old eyes, which had seen and felt so much change in his lifeblood country that we know this America is.
My America had changed.
The desert remained magical in all her mystery and beauty, but the city, the great American city has become something I had yet to see in her and I have seen her poverty; weak, tired, and hungry. But truly I have only known a prosperous America, my America, bold and blazing malls full of commerce and life and love for something beyond them...
I was unsure however, as we pulled our car into the parking lot and saw three stores alive while 10 had been stripped like the corpse of our enemy when our machine rolls through. The signs from above had been torn down - those which once glittered and shown like beacons through the dark times were blank leaving only a slight impression that something had existed before the brand new nothingness; the storefronts were empty of faces, naked of the signs for sales sales sales, and the parking lot hummed like a silent ghost town blowing dust in an absent wind. This small corner of a great city, where once lived our American dream snuck into the frontal lobe of my brain and sorrow filled the rest of me.
I said a prayer for all of our fellows who had no job and were desperate, as the driver pulled us out of there with much haste, as though he too felt the creeping realization that would solidify if we stayed too long and felt too much of what had been by consuming the aura of what is. I could not shake it while we drove and I feigned uncomfortable laugher; it crashed into my consciousness and would not leave even as we found another hub of consumerism I could not help but struggle through the wakeful dream coming to a head.
And then it happened... I searched the faces of my fellows as we walked often brushing past one another with smiles and excuse me's; I saw in their faces my America, a strong America, not unlike my fellows in Canada, but this is America... my America and I saw the fight, the mix of terror and struggle and a sense of relief in all that had happened and all that was to be for them and for us. There is a slight disconnect between the people and the situation to be sure, but this may be what makes all of us so resilient in our modern world.
We want what we want and we want it now yet deep inside we will wait when we have too wait. We will work like those before us who built this great machine and entrusted us to protect and enhance it. We will sit and smile whilst portions of our dying dream burn down, waiting for a replacement dream brought alive by our fellows.
My America sitting in the desert wind, I salute the people here; those who, like in my Canada, continue to grow and strengthen their resolve for the coming fight and the coming death of what was known for what will be. I am privileged to be a part of you and for good or ill my prayers are filled with your sons and daughters, your fathers and mothers...
David Lewry