While in the gallery the pictures of a foreign places were hung in frames. It awed me to think this was part of our country, an actual part of the United States, it floored me to think this was part of Michigan… our very own Detroit. The images seemed so far away not right at my backdoor. The buildings old and torn to pieces. The darkness seemed to engulf me, to take me in. The sound of the music that played in the background added to the effect these images had on me. It was as if the sounds wanted to take me there, to that time and place, to the here and now really, it just wanted me to get lost in it. It felt almost unreal, unbelievable is what it really was. I thought of a third world country when i seen these photo’s or maybe even another time period. Sad, it was sad, maybe even something i didn’t want to believe. The picture in black and white of the birds flying across the sky, near the end drew me in. I didn’t want to stop staring at it. It took me to a place far away from the torn down,dirty, dusty,vandalized, falling apart buildings. The birds so free, flying in the sky, it allowed me to breath easier, it freed me. Freed me from what? From the images that were burned in my mind, the destruction of it all, the fact it was a part of “home” i never really knew about or even thought existed here in the united states… The smells of a forest entered my nose, really the wooden pieces of the chest board. Everything I touched or felt seemed scratchy, grainy, like it couldn’t be soft enough. Nothing seemed to be enough. The touch of things weren’t soft enough, the pictures weren’t good enough to be part of our country… not enough. Not enough compared to what i wonder, to a third world country? no, were lucky as Americans… but are we really. I just want to run away, far away to some fairy tale world, I just want to spread my wings and be able to fly through the sky, to feel freed, to have everything, yet nothing in a sense.
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