Why is the color blue so tired today? The carpet at the Salt Lake International Airport, with its boarding strips of navy and the attempt of cheerfulness with the dots of peacock, seems to me to be the very picture of haggard. Not all blues are tired, and not all the time. Just today when the color blue seems to leak in through every crack in my head, invading everything with its synonymy to all things dense and headache-y. My eyelids are heavy forcing my head to stare at scuffed Reeboks, the reflection of light in the linoleum, and the glum worn-out blue that is absolutely everywhere. Even the bookseller’s cheery attempt to ply me with his knowledge of Cinderella stories seemed drawn and strained.
11:40, 2:00, 4:00… “THE SALT LAKE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT IS CLOSED” due to the ice storm that sent surprised business men and students alike, plus every other early morning traveler, slipping and sliding down their front porches this morning. I’d like to see the slow motion montage of the compilation of these falls. There must be grace, there could be romance, inside the minute detailing of these falls… they don’t say “head over heels in love” unsystematically or without some sort of implied sensation.
The people here drag their convenient roller suitcases behind them with brows furrowed and pale grey faces. The only show of vigor from these living corpses comes when lunging at the long-sought after strip of faux-leather to stake their claim to… which ironically is only marginal in comfort. Jokes on you, seat poachers. These chairs, plus the state-of-the-art climate control, heat up your posterior side while keeping your front iceberg freezing. There, suspended between two worlds, you try to remember what comfort feels like.
|"Joseph Pielichaty’s Blue Skies, a collection of sky photos clipped from the travel section. A portable vacation."|