We teeter on the edge. Individuals and citizens alike...we all seem to have overwhelming circumstances overhead, preposterous Seussian gravity holds the weight aloft. The eminence of artfully stacked...hoarded assemblages holds up...detains our guilt...shame...remorse...ambitions.
Perhaps this is why I keep revisiting these stacked rock motifs. I am drawn to (pun blundered into) the act of stacking make-believe hoodoos...compulsively make "inukshuks" as I walk along woods paths. I long for visions of guidance, look for answers sublimated in the teetering precedence, long to make sense of my own accordance.
My vision here details a small house quietly nestled amidst all this peril. This is us (U.S.)...this is the world we have made. We have spread our actions amongst the globe...homogenized cultural diversity into McDonaldized heaps of dangerous propensity. We go about out lives despite the commodious reprobate waiting/weighting over us. We are either heroes or stooges, perhaps both at the same time...and why not? We flail along with deceptions of grandeur, delight in acquiring more and more, concoct our pending demise...hopefully...perhaps...not.The gravity of our actions is continuous...tenuous. When do we wake? Where will we go? ...how will we know?