roadtrip to cleveland

i took a few consecutive days off from bookslave-land and hopped in the passenger's seat of my mother's car and drove 7 hours to cleveland, ohio.  we saw the rock and roll hall of fame and the cleveland museum of art (which was amazing and FREE!) and the house from the Christmas Story movie.

we drove the toll roads through northern indiana, through toledo ohio and saw all the landscapes that are permanently etched into my mind.  farms after farms after farms.  cornfields, amber waves of grain and not much more than that.

 (john rogers cox's gray and gold 1942)

these visuals growing up are what made me ponder and think and wonder and, essentially, chip away at boredom.

hours in the schoolbus, winding around old country roads for an hour to and from school, my mind jumpy and anxious for the next time i'd see something spectacular and amazing and new.

open lands.  vastness.  solitude.

until you arrive into the next big midwestern town with a museum or two and you peer at sargeant pepper outfits or zztop drums or mick jagger's jumpsuit or flavor flav's clock.  and in another building you see thousands of damien hirst's dead butterflies and another roomful of shining armor and impressionists and realists and more rodin sculptures and another excerpt of picasso's blue period you missed in paris and just when you though monet made you yawn you discover something different....

and then you're back in the cornfields all over again. with plenty of time to think about what just flashed before your eyes.

and then, if you're not in a rush, you can take the scenic route back to chicago through amish country.

and when i get stuck in that cornfield again, i reflect on these trips and assure myself that life does not breed constant chaos.  it's just a perpetual journey through cornfields to cultural deluge and back again.

i'm not sure where i fit into the grand scheme of things nor where i belong, but i always know that kind of cornfield thinking will see me through.

OHIOOOOO!