I walk toward the sun which is always going down by Alan Huck. Published by Mack.
A reminder amongst the daily stream of distractions to slow down, give full attention to our daily endeavors and, according to Annie Dillard, “to discover, at least, where it is that we’ve been so startlingly set down, if we can’t learn why”.
By way of interior monologue (and a brief encounter with some eternal wanderer), Huck provides resistance to traditional notions of place, especially as an inexhaustible and fugitive pursuit. He offers, instead, place in which everywhere is anywhere with no bearing on the ability to make something from it—and with the capacity to influence our own circumstances. (Everything that happens here depends on us.) Like many enduring alliances, there is a disparate relationship between the existential ruminations of the narrator and Alan’s spare photographs set along highways and vacant lots in these New Mexico settings, and yet these two forms find a home together and establish a generative dialogue centered on one’s relationship to place. Each wandering sojourn through I walk toward the sun… provides new revelations and discoveries. Quite simply, it’s the book I needed most and wish I’d made.
Raymond Meeks lives and works in New York’s Hudson Valley.
His recent books include Halfstory Halflife (Chose Commune, 2018) and Seven Kinds of Loneliness, a collaboration with publisher Stanley Barker.