Occasionally when I’m driving at night, I’ll turn my attention away from my immediate surroundings and look toward the city’s edge. Las Vegas has so many lights when you focus on its heart. The Strip is a bonfire in the Nevada desert. But you can trace the edge of the city with your eyes. If you turn your back toward the Strip, the myriad points of light form a horizon. There are always strays; dots of light that stand outside the cluster. And for some reason, those lights interest me. I wonder in my mind: from what source is this tiny light? Yes, a bulb of some sort, of course, but what is its purpose? I always want to believe it’s a porch light. It’s a place someone calls home. It’s a place where the light is on because someone that is home is waiting for someone else to come home. And that scenario creates so many stories.
I’ve imagined myself choosing a light and driving to it, continually focused on it so as not to lose it amongst the others, and eventually finding out its purpose.