Here on Highway 1
c. 2021
THOUGHTS: Beneath the breezy blue sky and steep mountain ranges, love is the connection that holds. There is no tabula rasa, no unbiased observer; you and I are pawns and instruments, exploiting and disrupting nature. Our learned actions shape the environment where leisure, freedom, overconsumption, and natural resources intersect. We partake of a slice of North American life. You may struggle with this social-political “great conjunction,” finding renewable (wind, sun) and nonrenewable (coal, oil, and gas) fossil fuels, applicable yet fleeting on this regenerative American Frontier: short-lived (gold rush), idyllic, and agreeable. This vibrant, energetic, wild wilderness of the Great West rises again to the surface through human-caused landslides, accelerating in spirit and speed up and down the coastline, moving rapidly offshore. At the edge of Highway 1, where waves meet sky, a restless, neo-composite dynamic empire churns, burning by its own design. My quiet, fragile American eyes awake and loaded with tears in this culturally deliberate 21st-century time, what it means to be American.
