Notice: On Tuesday, December 24 and Wednesday, December 25, the Lancaster Museum of Art and History and fellow Lancaster Arts and Culture facilities—MOAH:CEDAR, The Studio at Cedar, Western Hotel Museum, Prime Desert Woodland Preserve, and Elyze Clifford Interpretive Center—will be closed for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Have a wonderful holiday and plan your visit with us the following day ! Regular hours will resume on Thursday, December 26.
Desertion
By
Edward Lee
Darkness. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t want to be here. The first few months of my life. Easily the worst part of my life. No not easily, my whole life was bad. Very bad. From what I can remember, I was dehydrating most of the time in the soil. Only getting a load of water from the soil that seems to snatch the water away until it finally lets me have its leftovers. Those times were hard, but at the same time, it was a very short time. I remember when I first saw the light, the light that has fed me, made me beg for something to end me, crush me, and take me back into the soil, but I yearned for it when it disappeared beyond the mountains. I remember I continued to grow, my roots swirling and twisting the soil that took so much from me. But, as I grew taller to my mother’s carcass, her leaves started falling around like me like she was weeping. I then realized the emptiness that surrounded me, brown stretching as far as I can see, wrinkled and dead plants, just like me, lay periodically between the endless brown. I realized then, that the soil I hated so much, was just like me, laying in a world we knew so little about. Endless days and nights. But, life wasn’t always so endless. As I grew taller, I saw the endless brown in front of me change. Creatures. There they were so happy and energetic. They were very different from the big and small furry creatures. They seemed to love life. Something that I yearned for. As more time passed I saw more of these creatures and while I continued to wrinkle, worried about the text time the water would come and feed me, I saw those creatures become happier and happier. I wonder what was missing from my life that prevented me from feeling what they seem to be feeling. It's no matter. I can already feel some of my leaves falling, shrinking into a carcass like my mothers. Why do I even care? I am not sentient. I shouldn’t even have these feelings to begin with. But, Happiness. What a joyous looking thing.