We Were Wanderers

On a prehistoric earth. When lost, we’d pull over to the side of the road and communicate our helplessness, forming bonds and connections with complete strangers. Our maps were a testament to the district lines and city limits we pushed ourselves to discover, physical souvenirs of the routes we had taken. When we had an afternoon open as kids we’d explore the secret trails of the park. We were explorers of the deep, an imaginary gang of vagabonds and misfits foraging through dirt and dust for buried treasure. When in search of knowledge, we stuck our heads into the pages of books that kept us occupied for hours. Tangible sheets that when looked at after an hour of reading, measured our progress in the pursuit of knowledge. We were wanderers. Our classrooms were filled with students who sat by windows and gazed into the morning skies watching birds fly by, daydreaming. Wondering what exactly the world held for us, the places we would go. It was simpler times, where technology was never a necessity, but always a supplement.

Our days today consist of knowing everything and having that knowledge at our fingertips. We have access to the greatest banks of data, the depths and valleys of every question we have. We have an answer to everything. We explore, but not to the lengths that we used to. We wander, but with eyes glued to a 1136 x 640 pixel resolution screen. Our portraits and landscapes are overlayed with aged-filters that ironically transport us to a simpler era, it’s like we’re moving in reverse. We no longer discover, our communications are solely handled over data bits, and our children are born with Ipad in hand. We’ve slowed down and the health rates of America show it. We WERE wanderers, now not so much.