The currency of freedom…

Last summer while driving home from photographing a meteor shower, I used a trucker’s lights to paint this image. He was driving down the same highway that is now obstructed for miles in both directions this side of a major border crossing.


I’m not proud of this weekend’s moment in Canadian history. Freedom is the currency being bartered for. What began as a demonstration closely tied to different mandates being required for unvaccinated truckers has gone south. I don’t believe that the mandate should have been implemented—for many, it was the final straw—coming at a time when the decision to vaccinate or not is still a personal one.

From gridlocks and blockades, to vandalism and desecration in cities across this country, it’s the smaller stories that sadden me the most. The ones that won’t make the national news because they are byproducts, not headliners, of an out of control event. How many lives are being affected because people cannot get to where they need to be, or have help get to them in a timely manner? And who will clean up the streets and highways after the protesters have dispersed? We aren’t just talking truckers here, had we been, I suspect the event would have had a different outcome. I don’t believe their intent was a call-to-arms for the fringe unvaccinated to descend from their social media thrones and disrupt essential workers trying to do their jobs. While protesting is legal, blocking a highway is not.

I’m disgusted. There are consequences to the decisions we make—freedom does have a currency.

Mandate freedom. How about we mandate humanity?

Between a rock…

and a hard place.

[rəˈzistənt] resistant

not wanting to accept something

The shingle urchin, or kaupali as it’s called in Hawaii, is able to resist being washed away by having superior adhesion, and a unique body shape.

We are in unprecedented times. Everything we take for granted has undergone some form of change, and each of us feels its effect differently. With spring in the air, it’s challenging to be limited in the things we can do. Things we’re used to doing like camping, attending concerts, and having social gatherings like weddings.

We can be resistant to the new normal, or we can err on the side of humanity.

Stay creative, stay positive, and most of all, stay safe.

Dwelling in…

conflict.

A used tire, coated in ice, litters the surface of Lake Pend Oreille, Idaho while others lurk below the surface.
What Lies Beneath © Sheryl R Garrison

Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error. It is these mingled opposites which people our life, which make it pungent, intoxicating. We only exist in terms of this conflict, in the zone where black and white clash.

Louis Aragon

Looking at this image makes me think that there really isn’t much hope for humanity. The simplest concept that the earth could go on without us but that we can’t survive without its natural resources seems to elude a large percentage of the population.

Perhaps those are the same ones that love to dwell in conflict. Where everything is never enough and the concept of accountability is just a word that’s too long to pronounce. The conflict becomes too intoxicating to put down and common sense falls by the wayside.

But I digress…

I”ll likely not be around in 50 years but those tires sure will be.

It’s (almost always) about the water.