Text and photography by Patrick La Roque
"These are the new mountains" my father said, "towering and driven monuments, drilled into the ground by force, not time—there's a difference..." "Why? Why is it different?" I asked. "Because it's borne of control..." he answered, lighting another cigarette, his eyes suddenly vacant "...And meant to control."
We may eventually become the worlds we inhabit, as they absorb us through osmosis and sheer strength of will. But as I walk in silence, dwarfed in these extinct territories, it dawns on me: I will not be transformed, I will fight; I will testify.
I am the fire in the structure.