By Art Freewill on August 19, 2015

We are tied down and also liberated by them, spend our lives speeding, cruising and sitting on them. They connect us and separate us, move us, and stop us. Who is not touched by them? They capture the duality of man in ways that few things do. A subject talked about constantly in casual conversation and broadcasted to the masses every 15 minutes. That we do not seem to really celebrate the idea of how much we are affected in every way every day is a mystery. The grander, the spectacular, the literal life and death struggle for all involved. We think nothing of its huge shining masses of beautiful steel moving at unnatural speeds inches from solid immoveable objects. When commuting, we are out of natural time, out of touch with the natural motion, and never give it a thought. All the creative energy spins on to them, churning, pulling us from our homes, our very natural existence to risk it all. Risk it all to move faster and further than man has ever dreamed of before. How this thing must fundamentally change us as humans, make us almost interdimensional time travelers! What would a man on horseback think: could he adapt to the force that we take for granted? We risk our lives, our health, our sanity to participate in this bizarre ritual. The communities that lay along these powerful currents feed into them their energy, their time, and their money. Faster, safer, more efficient, more expensive chariots are in order. Art! The most beautiful art can be witnessed in these rivers of concrete, steel, paint, rubber, flesh, bone and blood. You can feel the power coursing, throbbing and screaming for miles from the epicenter of this theater of the extreme. Houston has a system that boggles the mind. She allows most of its citizens to live far away in the comfort of manicured lawns, swimming pools, white picket fences where life is simple. Away, far away from the spinning energy, the strong vibrations and power of the city. For many, the tolling of the worship bell breaks the tranquil sleep of the burbs; before the sun is in the sky the faithful prepare to journey to the center. The magnificent center where art rises from the grounds, literally out of the shores of the bayous to touch the sky in brilliant glass, steel and technology. They risk everything, hurtling at break neck speed. Totally reliant on their fellow man whom they do not know for their very lives. Some to make their fortune — millions or even billions; many just to keep their life in the outskirts outside the castle walls in the prairie. Some one misstep from living under the very underpass they fly across today, where the unseen, the unwashed and unwanted gather showing their fealty to our great monuments to power in their own way. I salute this, I live this, I willingly trust my fellow man in ways few known civilizations prior to this can imagine. The person next to me, the man that changed my tires, the people who designed and built the bridges, roads and traffic signals. Even though I have almost lost my life and the life of the one I hold most dear. My faith was shaken but not broken, back to the powerful rivers we went, headlong into the night, day, rain, sleet and snow. Trusting in ways almost no one thinks about until confronted with the reality of living on the river of concrete. Trusting my fellow man not to let me be obliterated by the amazing power we embrace in the daily commute. As Houston grows and matures, she is quickly becoming even more of a dazzling work of art. Freeways larger, faster, and safer. Buildings taller, newer, more efficient and more sophisticated, I marvel at the beauty. Our communities, builders, artists, and everyday people are the real machines, gears, the generators that supply this town with the power to keep going and growing. We celebrate this art more and more every day. A great gathering, people and their energy flock to Houston where we trust each other so much we ride the rivers of power together and donʼt give it a second thought. I celebrate the unsung heros of our society that make these rivers possible: they allow me to see and experience art I would never see without them. They are art in their own right. James Armetor makes and sees art every day in Houston Texas. Art Free Will is his chariot. Will you please leave a comment? Will you please follow my art blog? Kind regards, abundance and peace. James Armentor