By David Rose
Even in the Texas panhandle, where the topography is as topography-free as any place on earth, the railroad tracks are not straight. They bend into the distance and the dust, disappearing beneath the curvature of the earth. Like Texas railroad tracks, time does not follow a straight line, it curves as well.
Einstein proved this theory. It raises the possibility that traveling far enough into the future, one could possibly arrive at the past. Out there beyond the superstructure of some distant tomorrow the Pharos of Alexandria shines, once again, above the horizon.
It is my contention that like time, taste may be circular as well. There is proof to this theory. In my short lifetime, ripped jeans, Doc Martens, and tie-dye have come around twice. If traveling to the future can bring you to the past, it stands to reason that traveling through enough yesterdays can bring you to tomorrow. Journey far enough back through the tacky wastelands of kitsch and you will arrive on the cutting edge of the high art.
My plan is a bold one. I will take a machete and chop my way through the dense foliage behind a Thomas Kinkade cottage. Press on past the toilet bowl planters, Beanie Babies, and Hummel figurines. If my calculations are correct, I will emerge on the cutting edge of the art world.
Like some modern-day Magellan, I will attempt that journey. My heart tells me that somewhere out there on the endless prairie, where the earth, the sky, and the railroad tracks all come together, I will find my grail.
As an artist, David Rose won both the Arkansas Governor’s Award and the Delta Award. His works are in the collections of Tim Robbins, Bruce Springsteen, & Susan Sarandon. As a writer he flunked every English class he ever sat in. Born in Woodstock, NY, he is very much a product of the 1960s and never really managed to escape that fabled decade. Visit Rose at www.amazon.com/David-Malcolm-Rose/e/B019GBJI9C/ and on Facebook.
