Walking around in the rubble. Was it created by the Americans, or the Iraqis? I'm not sure. I do know that it was once a resort. A place for people of importance to come and relax and cool off in the sweltering desert sun. Now it is just a place to pull what little resources the Iraqi government can.I found myself wandering in this place, looking for something to take photographs of. Maybe a flower sprouting in the midst of this ruin, maybe a neat piece of marble to make a decent abstract photo. Creation through destruction. I didn't find much, most of it was concrete and re-bar with the occassional piece of marble scattered throughout. Then I saw the sun glint off of this mirror. I walked towards it and as I crouched in front of it I could see my face in it. I snapped the photo thinking of the irony of it, this time in my life when all feels as if it is in pieces. The only sure thing is my reflection and the rubble around me. I wonder now if this place will be rebuilt. What does it holds for the future, and what does life hold for me in my future? Can I pick up these pieces and rebuild what is being torn down around me?
In all the destruction around you, wherever it is you may be, you are the beauty you were looking for. You found the one thing that can never brake, but only be rebuilt to be stonger. This is the only irony it holds.
February 23, 2008 at 6:38 PM