Bury Me Under the Mesquite Tree

As everything comes to a close, I see the new light of post-graduation existence dawning on me and I continue to wonder; What draws me to the land? I believe, in more ways than one, that the land speaks to us, it reflects who we are and what we have done. Traveling across the state of Arizona, I search for what Robert Venturi and Deniese Scott Brown call “ducks”; “distorted and submerged” symbolic forms that live through architecture. I seek to bend the definition of the term and apply it to my own life, using the subjects as a metaphorical cue for the struggles I face. I think what draws me to the land is that I see myself in it, the isolated subjects represent me; someone who often feels alone, out of place, and especially unwanted in the land I reside on. As time continues, just as the river’s flow never ends, I think about what the future holds, for the land and for myself. I do know one thing, Bury Me Under the Mesquite Tree, and I will be happy.