Thursday, February 10, 2011

Flying Without Leaving The Ground

As I gaze out into that horizon, getting more familiar with it each day of driving for hours, the only difference being the color and logo of the tractor trailer behind in front of you, I fight the shrinking visual window of the onslaught of tunnel vision.  The Great Plains of the Midwest are a formidable foe to visual stimulus, the only physical interaction being the slight muscle movements necessary to steer the vehicle to stay within the boundaries of the road, and the occasional adjustments to the sun visor as the road steers directly into and away from the sun's blinding fury.  Music helps - it helps to feed the melancholy hunger of the solitary mind when exposed to such minimal existential states.


With the human scale of our immediate perception, compared with the global scale of the landscape, the evolution of place is migratory, or in other words, it is almost imperceptible to see the change in the landscape as I drive along this concrete/asphalt path that stretches into the horizon and beyond.  Yes, I am barreling down on this interstate, in a monster truck, sending the seemingly microscopic little lizards and insects on the road scampering away, while in relation to the macroscopic terrain and surroundings, me and my truck are but a mere speck on a crack in the sidewalk of the North American Plate, on a straight line course heading West.



This is what the GPS shows - I am a mere blip on this screen superimposed on the map of the US.  I've always loved maps, and the GPS screen is a map come alive!  It moves and tracks my migration.  It is the "liaison" between me and the world!  It is one way of interjecting, however minimal, a sense of epic to the mundane you see.  It affords us modern humans what our ancient ancestors use to do on a daily basis - to celebrate and worship that which is bigger than us.  Our ancestors didn't have tall buildings and giant structures obstructing the natural beauty of the landscape.  They made gods out of mountains, forged myths and legends around the sky, the sun, stars, and even the clouds themselves.  I do have this enigmatic fascination with that which is bigger than ourselves - the horizon, the mountains, clouds in the distance, the ocean, the rotation of the earth and all that it entails to create sunrises and sunsets and the migration of the sun, moon, and stars, even the rotation of the earth around the sun, the spinning of our galaxy, and the expansion of the universe!  It is ironic that that which is larger than ourselves makes our human drama petty and trivial compared to the grand scheme of things...and yet, the pain and the love is so very real making it "feel" like the universe revolves around us...




This maybe one reason I missed seeing the horizon, to have a certain ethereal affinity and longing to gaze out at open space and see that flat line in the distance, where sky and earth meet and touch.  My eyes need the sense of "distance" with referential elements that clouds cannot afford.  I felt as if in a bubble and needed to journey out into the open, to free my spirit and ignite the inquisitive and the creative that has mothballed in the attic - suppressed by my own accord.  No one to blame but myself...


Now I am here, out in the open, and I feel the change.  It is not without sadness, but with change comes the leaving of place, but...it is also for the arrival...