the suburban desert
is a man made desert with fluorescent lights that spill across the black asphalt revealing the painted on symbols of a world of desolation, repetition, and complacency. these spaces, however, contradictorily become spaces of silence where time and space collide, spread out, and vanish into moments of stillness.
the suburban desert
in a time when the rate of information is exchanged through satellites roaming over head and cable stretching beneath the seven seas, time seems to vanish into milliseconds, disappearing into the push forward, upward, onward, and beyond. in suburban america we find a similar race occurring; development companies push forward creating vast tracks of identical single-family dwellings, tearing down the earth's already dwindling natural structures, and providing a repeated formulated american landscape - one that speaks to every american's heart and belief in self-sufficiency, and specifically ownership - a single plot of land and a dream of prosperity and well-being. with the tide of people growing and inhabiting the ever bloated suburban landscape comes the need to foster america's now ever popular sport - consumerism. and with consumerism comes the need for places to shop - malls and outlets, supermarkets and discount warehouses. warehouses that stack all the necessary goods needed to survive in the suburban jungle. a jungle that has a life of one's own, mutating, prospering, destroying itself, or being destroyed in turn. nevertheless, this suburban paradise that millions of american's reside within, near, or on the outskirts of is key to survival in the world today.
during the daytime the world moves at the lighting quick speed mentioned above, but what happens after the time when the consumer goes to sleep, when the suburban american is cuddled snuggly into the sheets of his patterned down comforter? what happens to the landscape of shopping malls, warehouses, and parking lots? they become the suburban desert, a man made desert with fluorescent lights that spill across the black asphalt revealing the painted on symbols of a world of desolation, repetition, and complacency. these spaces, however, contradictorily become spaces of silence where time and space collide, spread out, and vanish into moments of stillness. they become equivalent or provide a similar resonance to the deserts of the natural world. they are man made tracks of paved over constructed pieces of a world fighting with itself to maintain a semblance of order, structure, and direction. for they are both gruesome and beautiful, terrible and magnificent.