The Border

This is it. On the right, across the river is Mexico. The United States is on the left. Simple.

But nothing's simple about the border. I can't express how bewildering the maze of issues are to this midwesterner.

The Border Patrol is a constant presence. There's an unmanned blimp over Marfa, taking pictures and lord knows what of all of us down on the ground. (Genetic scans, maybe?) The local papers talk about the thousands of illegal aliens crossing the border every month. And they note the ones who don't make it, and are found dead in the desert. It happens more than you'd like to know.

This is a picture of the border at the Big Bend National Park. Across the river, we saw a herd of cattle (with cowbells!) grazing in Mexico. Bucolic and lovely. Tomorrow, I'll be in El Paso, within blocks of the bridge across the Rio Grande to Juarez, and the crossing will be crowded, noisy, dirty. I prefer the country myself.

My thoughts about the border are too unformed, uninformed, probably desperately naive. To say much more than that would be irresponsible. Maybe as time goes on, I'll figure some of this out and let you know. Or maybe I won't figure any of it out. That's probably more likely. Anyway, I suspect some of my first artwork will be about living in the borderland. That's usually the way I try to explore difficult issues--through my fingers.

Just thought it was time I said something about it.

Oh yeah, and I do feel safe here, in case you were wondering. Rest assured, worriers out there. No, I won't be going into Mexico alone.