10 west
At the end of this decade, I was driving on an American highway – the Interstate 10 to be precise, in dense fog, at 2 am. I started my drive at the east-most point of I-10. If I drove West long enough, this road would take me all the way West to California. I wasn’t going West, though, just a few hundred miles away, home. Alone in the eerily beautiful swirling white fog, I thought about the ending year. 2009 brought me a new career, my first published book, a new life. I couldn’t see too far ahead of me, but I kept going, enjoying the apparitions of trees that revealed themselves as trees when I was right next to them, and the shining lights of oncoming traffic that became clear for a moment – a Mack truck, a Thunderbird, a garden variety Camry – as they passed me, and diminished into fireflies glowing for seconds in my rear view mirror before disappearing into the blackness. E.L. Doctorow said “Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” Writing, to me, is exactly like driving a familiar highway to a familiar destination at an unfamiliar time. I see nothing until it is upon me, but I know, if I keep going, I will get there. My book was written much like this drive. But, I thought, not just writing, but life itself has been very much like this drive. I am full of anticipation to see what I will see next, and where I will stop, and to find out what those shapes and lights are that I can vaguely make out in the distance. I don’t mean to be trite, but I did have a moment there of really getting it: We all know what the destination is. It’s the journey that’s the fun part. It’s the revelations. So though I’ve said it before, I wish you, my reader, my friend, my family, whoever you might be, a journey of discovery. Of yourself, and the world.
Tags: E.L. Doctorow, fog, I-10
I love the fog too – scary and exciting at the same time. you kinda know what’s ahead, but you can’t quite make it out. horror movies always use this to mess with you, but when you’re not watching a horror movie (or in one!!) it’s always fun. I remember Vinchurni being shrouded in fog one morning and it was so weird to see such a familiar place suddenly transformed into a mysterious alien landscape.
the fog puts me in a pensive mood too – maybe it’s BECAUSE things are not clear any more and we start wondering what’s beyond the obvious. sometimes I look out my window that is fogged up because it’s so cold outside and try to imagine what’s beyond my myopic view of life. and then I realize that my view is myopic because I just don’t know and because I’m scared. there was a time when it used to excite me.
of late I find that my fear of the destination keeps me from enjoying the journey. you are one of the few things that helps me enjoy the journey and remind me that the journey is what’s important. and of course you help make the journey more bearable with rice cookers and warm winter scarves =)
You really can’t change the destination. Really. But you do have choice on the journey. So take some deep breaths, (now that you can!)and stop to smell the dog shit, and run fast when you don’t like the sound of something – life’s too short to not do what you love to do, and to do what you don’t love to do. Madie said to me, “life is too short to be unhappy”. She should know, she is 84 years old.
The writing and the photo go so beautifully together. What a pleasure to see and read. I imagine a book of your meditations on photos you have taken.
Your writing helps me “get it,” or to at least see that getting it is possible. It is a light in the fog. Or like the trail of reflectors along that highway that jump and shimmer and along which one pegs one’s way forward.