Lane Scheideman

This is a submission to the Photo Friday gallery.

I originally didn’t want to post anything today. I didn’t feel that any picture or words would be representative of the past five years. I changed my mind when I remembered I had taken a picture of The Sphere on my trip to NY in 2000 It’s not the best picture. It doesn’t invoke powerful images relating the great moments of humanity that occurred in the wake of the devastation wrought by a few. What it does show is the great works of art that our Human hands and minds can produce, the beauty that we all hold within ourselves.

When I was watching the countless hours of footage that horrific day, seeing the death and destruction, my mind and heart could not cope. I couldn’t cry, but for a few tears. I couldn’t scream, but for a few expletives. I couldn’t move, but for my finger on the remote. That is until I saw the destruction of The Sphere. The fabulous sculpture that lay nearly in ruin in the rubble of the towers. That one image, superimposed over the image I had in my mind so similar to the one above, is the image that broke the dam that was my psyche on the morning of the eleventh day of the ninth month of the year two-thousand and one.