I’d been spending a quiet afternoon in Brooklyn Bridge Park when the place was suddenly mobbed with people, all of them with phones and cameras in hand to snap a sunset shot over Manhattan.
I could see none of them had a clue what they were doing: they just needed content to post on their socials.
It was a super cloudy day, and I could’ve told those two-bit photographers they were wasting their time, but people have to learn these things for themselves—and I don’t talk anyway.
As a line of solitary clout-chasers fixed their lenses on the Financial District for likes and engagement, soon to be disappointed, I watched this pair quietly engrossed in actual conversation.
Anytime the train rolls through some sad Podunk town, it’s almost guaranteed there will be at least one person waiting with a phone or camera to record our passing visit.
I’ve never understood how they know when to show up, or if they just wait around for hours in anticipation, but I admire their tenacity and commitment.
More than once, I’ve prayed for them as their lives enter my view for a moment, then vanish into memory just as quickly.
I may be projecting, but I often feel a deep kinship with those strangers.
I can usually see a longing in their eyes to flee the shitty little world that imprisons them, and it reminds me of the many long years of my life when I felt the same.
I, too, was stuck in oppressive, shithole towns in the middle of nowhere, desperate to break free and wander to wider spaces beyond the familiar.
It’s shocking how long it took me to escape that narrow existence, and I could never thank God enough for getting me the fuck out.
Even now, I bristle at the thought of being limited and confined, as I have been for much of my life.
In hindsight, it’s been necessary: Only when your soul has been sufficiently smothered does it begin to burn with an unquenchable fury to release those who are also trapped and desperate for hope.
What galls me the most is that so many people enjoy being suppressed and captive. As a citizen of the United States, that has become abundantly clear.
A good chunk of humanity finds comfort in keeping their worlds small, limited, and controlled, surrendering their lives to two-bit demons who squelch their power for the illusion of safety and normalcy.
For those people, I have no sympathy—they’ve chosen to bargain with darkness, and their lives are an abhorrent waste.
But for those lone lights who yearn for something greater, whose souls hope and pine for freedom and autonomy, my heart is with you. May God grant you the release you seek.
Snøhetta with Pearce Brinkley Cease & Lee. James B. Hunt, Jr. Library (2013). North Carolina State University. Raleigh, North Carolina.123Looking at the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library from the westEntrance of the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library, Raleigh, North CarolinaLooking at the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library from the northwestWindows and sun shades on the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library, Raleigh, North CarolinaLooking at the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library from the southwestWindows and sun shades on the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library, Raleigh, North Carolina
References
Price, Jay. “Need a book? Ask a robot”. The News and Observer (Raleigh, North Carolina), April 17, 2009, p. B1. ↩︎
“A Vibrant Space For Learning”. The News and Observer (Raleigh, North Carolina), January 3, 2013, p. B1. ↩︎
It’s been another bleak and exhausting year—that seems to be the only kind we like to produce anymore.
It still helps to find joy in the small gifts of nature, which we, the destructive demons who roam and pillage the earth, have done absolutely nothing to deserve.
The beautiful yellow flowers of fall are one such gift, a welcome reminder of hope and optimism, even as the cold, dark days of winter begin breathing down our necks.
I find the flowers of purple-headed sneezeweed particularly graceful, and their presence at the moment brings me great delight.
Pringle & Smith. Church of the Epiphany Parish House (1923). Inman Park, Atlanta.1234Cross and shield ornament on the Church of the Epiphany Parish House, AtlantaSouth elevation of the Church of the Epiphany Parish House, AtlantaCross on the Church of the Epiphany Parish House, Atlanta
References
“Epiphany Church To Break Ground For Parish House”. The Atlanta Journal, November 9, 1922, p. 3. ↩︎
“New Parish House Of Epiphany Church To Rank With Best”. The Atlanta Journal, February 25, 1923, p. A11. ↩︎
“Bishop H.J. Mikell To Speak on Program Of Epiphany Church”. The Atlanta Journal, December 9, 1923, p. 6A. ↩︎
Craig, Robert M.The Architecture of Francis Palmer Smith, Atlanta’s Scholar-Architect. Athens, Georgia: University of Georgia Press (2012). ↩︎
Victor A. Lundy. Alta Vista Elementary School Addition (1957). Sarasota, Florida.123South elevation of Alta Vista Elementary School Addition, Sarasota, FloridaNorth elevation of Alta Vista Elementary School Addition, Sarasota, FloridaVictor A. Lundy. Projected design of Alta Vista Elementary School Addition, Sarasota, Florida 4
References
“Alta Vista Addition Gets ‘Go Ahead’”. The News (Sarasota, Florida), September 5, 1956, p. 9. ↩︎
“$149,693 Contract Awarded For Alta Vista Addition”. The News (Sarasota, Florida), March 23, 1957, p. 9. ↩︎
“Sarasota’s Newest”. The News (Sarasota, Florida), October 19, 1957, p. 9. ↩︎
Miguel Rosales. Liberty Bridge (2004). Greenville, South Carolina.12Looking east across Liberty Bridge, Greenville, South CarolinaLooking at Reedy River Falls from Liberty Bridge, Greenville, South CarolinaLooking west across Liberty Bridge, Greenville, South CarolinaReedy River Falls, Greenville, South CarolinaLiberty Bridge at night
References
“City unveils new downtown Liberty Bridge”. The Greenville News (Greenville, South Carolina), September 15, 2004, City People, p. 2. ↩︎
