The Sweet Promised Land

 

I have been missing from my home for quite some time. Mirages of it seem to materialize, but they prove only to be unfaithful vignettes. I visit often, but my experiences invariably wither into woolgathering. I have a profound longing for my home that once was, but I have trouble reconciling the truth with my memories. There is residue, but not substance. I have had a son and started a new life in a new place, and I am beginning to feel outside myself. These images serve as a materialized chimera that I hope to pass along. I find myself asking, what is more important, to offer the legacy of the land itself or the myth that surrounds it?

 

“it has become a dimming dream in which little things stand out and the rest is blurred, but beautifully, because it is of memory. “

Robert Laxalt, Sweet Promised Land