Saturday, May 13, 2017

Space Travel into the Divided States.

The Hand of Man is coming to Europe! To be more specific, Berlin!

With it's car crushing abilities and fun for everyone, we hope that it will be a smashing success here. Booking it was more stressful than usual, with several gigs falling through, but in the end we got it to come to Europe.
This was our one chance to get whatever we needed in the shipping container with the Hand. And so on a two day notice I flew back across the world to my favorite little place on the planet and helped load the Hand and a few other important items heading back here. It was a quick turnaround and it was especially exciting to note the things that are so different between the two places I call home now...
Loading the Hand into the shipping container was the usual creative  hodgepodge with our heavy equipment...and it worked out fine, with Shay as the expert forkie, Oswald and Aaron directing the load, and me, happily handling the HIAB levers of our awesome crane truck, Atlas.

I managed to squeeze in a walk to the gorge, a moment with my dogs, the mesa and the Mountain.
My thoughts on returning to America are focused in a sharp critical light. Taos, however, is always a refuge.

My exit port was Paris, pre election, which felt a bit on edge, and upon return and after Macron defeated fascist right wing nut-job LePen, it felt much more relaxed, maybe even jubilant. John Oliver did an excellent piece on Last Week Tonight about what this election means for France and Europe, as a whole. France luckily did not follow in Americas footsteps.

My American entry port was Chicago, which was very sobering.                                                                                    I had barely left the plane before being barked at by TSA worker. As if I had broken several laws before I even got to passport control. The general unfriendliness and lack of basic decency is impressive. The crew members from my flight, all of which were EU citizens, rolled their eyes as if this treatment was all too familiar.                                                   I did manage to go to the city to see the Chicago Art Museum, which has some great works, but I had to run into this building first, which made me laugh out loud. Was this tower of shame always there? Jeez. And I did note the state of disrepair the city was in. The adverts plastered in the subway show a stark picture..."Depression? Suicide? Join a paid clinical trial for new drugs", or "Cheap Breast Augmentation Procedures", or the "New Underwear that can soak up menstrual blood" 
I don't remember having been more excited to land in Albuquerque, ever. 
I took a deep breath of relief as I drove up onto to the Taos mesa, noting how good the air smelled. 

I have to admit it was heartening to see the familiar neon dissent signs still present as well. The days flew by and the container got loaded. I had great food and conversation with a few incredible friends. I even got a few scrapes, blisters and splinters! Next thing I know, I was back on a plane, hurtling through space at around 600 miles per hour, heading towards Barcelona.

...and my heart remains here.

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