Day 29, the eve of the end of thirty days, is going to pass without much fanfare. Here are some photos, instead of words. I am looking at music the past couple says, not listening to it.
I love photographs of the American road system. I hate everything that the American road system has done. Undone. Undoing natural areas. Undoing rural life. Communities. The air. The atmosphere. Everything.
Funny enough, the road system gives me a line to my work. My works. Restoration. Photography. Tonight's writing.
I love lonely photographs of the road. Romantic. I think the human eye has had a romance with the horizontal line - forever, maybe.
The horizontal love affair of days past was with the horizon line. What's out there? More? The unknown? The horizon. Follow the other line, the path you make, follow it to the horizon. The path however, is not straight like the horizon.
Some say that that people love lawns and forests with only trees because they tap into our ancestral need for clean sight lines for hunting. A sight line to the horizon.
The horizontal love affair of today is the road. The endless roads that slice this land up. That lead to everything.
It was all in the air before the Model T went clackety-bang. The railroad seared through the west. Wagons before that.
Look at all the good we did for America the Big 3 might say. Look at all the places I can see I might say.
I love this land.
In my mind, I fall onto my knees, and I love this land.