rom the "Go West, young man," to Thoreau's advice to leave the exhausted
East for the re-invigorating West, we have been chasing the setting sun,
mowing ever westward, only marginally aware of the sphericity of our journey.
For following in the western direction, we eventually come back to see what
we have left.The West though stays. The geographical West of the United States interior with its vast, dwarfing space that can both liberate and crush.
Mowing again because of the irreconcilability of reality and illusion, or staying put because of exhaustion, or perhaps naming a place home, we leave artifacts as momentos to our dreams, desires and enterprise. We have begun to fill the West, creating a new aesthetic of abandonment, of pick-up trucks, and of almost whimsical kitsch out of sync with the surrounding landscape.
What is it that we seek in the West? A Grace or a Quick Buck? Or do we hope for both? Well, let's have a look.
If you would like to send Igor a comment about this essay, you may
contact him by e-mail at: vodnik@bigsky.net.
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