We are in a heat dome. Not the kind of dome you want to be in. I never liked hot weather, and as an old guy, I like it less. Most things are harder in the heat. The 4th is with us. Firecrackers are on the shelves at Sam’s, and Salameats are flying off the shelves. Our Weber Kettle Grill has a new grate. We have plenty of Coke Zero to get us through. We are 250 this year. There are only a few generations between us and the beginning.

Liminal Photography has taken off like a duck out of water. Much to the success of Backrooms. Liminal spaces are all around us. More and more as the economy changes. At university, I noticed that throughout my career, liminal spaces were part of the architect’s plan. Lonely spaces with no evident usage or patrons. Life is full of liminal spaces. We find ourselves in halls that go on forever. Halls that branch off into other halls. Rooms that connect to other rooms, and so it goes. Stairs with massive foyers and dead space. Rooms that have been forgotten for generations.

We love a birthday party. There will be cake and ice cream. Flags and balloons. Boats will be on the water. People hooping and hollering and bronzing in the sun. The alcohol will flow as the burgers and brats turn. Some will think of the exclusive club they belong to. America for Americans. Christ has taken a liking to white folks. They give good donations and buy great Christmas gifts. They do not worry about money and make sure their pastor does not have to worry about it either. ‘Jesus threw the money changers out of the temple,’ the white Christians say. ‘Christ knows if you are one of the good guys by the color of your eyes,’ WCs say as they pop another top.

The poor of the land sit on their fire escape and watch the fireworks with their kids on their laps. They have tears in their eyes as they ponder why they have to work twice as hard to demonstrate they are worthy of the country they love and die for. Segregation called it separate but equal…so it goes, except for the equal.