6,800 Years From Now
By Mikayla Whitmore
It's late. I have been melting into a mental sinkhole on what it means to write a piece on comfort, especially during such times of constant upheaval. I am not a professional writer by any means and loathe an approaching deadline, especially one coiled in words. A common practice I think most can relate to, but something that eludes me.
I really respect those who are authors that have a friendship with words. Staring directly into a glowing screen of pixels, I daydream about being dedicated enough to write a novel, but as I begin to write, my mind races past my pen, the plot unfolds in my head, and I think instead about creating a device that could record my thoughts and play them back like a movie. The imaginative awe of such a creation is quickly snuffed out by the thought of the imaginary Government acquiring said technology and using it against its people. I think it's best this device remains a fantasy...I say this as though I actually had a plan to bring it to fruition.
Sadly it's not a stretch by any means to think of a tyrannical ruling force overtaking the illusion of democracy. Fear of ruling world police. Conspiracy theories start to sound more factual in an era of misinformation and lack of transparency. Countless action movies and video games placating to the male cis gaze have affirmed this. Although history should be taught from many perspectives and experiences, the history we have still contextualizes past events to predict the future.
Our nation has been dealing with compounding issues: late stage capitalism, civil unrest, environmental uncertainties amongst a pandemic with fractured leadership, and unidentified federal law enforcement agents have been in Portland for over 50 nights.
My mind drifts back into focus and I still see a glowing screen of pixels still in front of me. I am still uncomfortable writing on the subject of comfort. I fully respect and believe everyone needs to try to find comfort, solace, and practice self care in order to keep moving towards a progressive future. Aside from a few passing moments, the only comfort I am actively aware of is the comfort I am growing around my discomfort.
This selection of images was pulled from brief encounters over the past five months. Non linear in their timeline presentation, separate moments scattered throughout space, but reflecting on certain existential anxiety. It’s been harder to create or allow space to do so, more often than usual. These images act as a guide in a familiar landscape; a terrain I am adapting to.
April 4, 2020
East Las Vegas
This cactus was planted around 1991; I took root in 1988. We grew up together in my parents’ backyard in East Las Vegas, now with my prickly friend towering far above my head at about seven feet tall. We have history together, 29 years of feeling the same sun rising. About a year ago it became blighted with sickness, and I have been trying to heal it ever since. Nothing has really seemed to definitely work, but the process has slowed some. One of the last longform precautions I am about to attempt is taking a cutting and trying to grow a future generation of cacti. Hopeful in 29 more years that we both will still be feeling the same sun rising over a more inclusive nation.
June 15, 2020
Las Vegas Strip
An escalator on the Las Vegas Strip has white outlines of the Welcome to Las Vegas sign marquee half painted. About every three steps is another ghostly outline, each rhythmically climbing to the top to disappear beneath a grate and start over again. Forever trapped in an infinite loop.
June 1, 2020
Downtown Las Vegas
One of many marches, vigils, and protests that occurred and are still occurring in Las Vegas. Starting around the Peppermill Casino and proceeding to play a game of Snake (reference Nokia phones from early 2000s), marchers continued on throughout the night avoiding kettling techniques being tested by law enforcement. Approximately 28,155 steps later according to my iPhone pedometer. A police officer stands in riot gear behind a plastic shield. Most marchers I've seen adorn bike helmets and makeshift armor out of sporting goods and everyday materials.
This is the same night Jorge Gomez, 25, a local protester and community member was killed and shot 19 times by Metro officers after a dispersal order was given. Demands for transparency and calls to release any body cam or video footage Metro has is being echoed. Gomez’s family is filing a federal lawsuit against Metro and more relevant information can be found online when you see this essay.
May 1, 2020
Las Vegas Strip
A large video monitor connected to a CVS and Treasure Island normally rotates between advertisements selling overpriced ideas and products to tourists. This day however, a message reads Restart Options, Schedule A Time. If only it was that easy.
July 24, 2020
Searchlight, Nevada
Staring into the sky, I am squinting, trying to guess which star might be comet Neowise. My partner and I drove the dog about an hour and a half out of town to escape the main array of light produced from the city to see a glimpse of the space rock.
Engulfed by deepening darkness as the moon drops below the horizon, I feel a brief sense of unexpected comfort and connection to the space rock I can barely see. Knowing that I will not be around to see it and have no idea of what the future holds, Neowise will visit again in 6,800 years.
Photos/Mikayla Whitmore.
Mikayla Whitmore is a queer artist and photojournalist working within realms of existentialism, surrealism, and land art. She grew up in in Las Vegas, and received her Bachelor of Fine Arts from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. She has exhibited at the Torrance Art Museum, California, David B. Smith Gallery, Colorado, and is part of the permanent collection of the Marjorie Barrick Museum of Art in Las Vegas, Nevada. She has also contributed work to Vox Media, The Wall Street Journal, ESPN, Black Mountain Institute, VICE, and The Guardian amongst others.
Thank you for visiting Humanities Heart to Heart, a program of Nevada Humanities. Any views or opinions represented in posts or content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage are personal and belong solely to the author or contributor and do not represent those of Nevada Humanities, its staff, or any donor, partner, or affiliated organization, unless explicitly stated. At no time are these posts understood to promote particular political, religious, or ideological points of view; advocate for a particular program or social or political action; or support specific public policies or legislation on behalf of Nevada Humanities, its staff, any donor, partner, or affiliated organization. Omissions, errors, or mistakes are entirely unintentional. Nevada Humanities makes no representations as to the accuracy or completeness of any information on these posts or found by following any link embedded in these posts. Nevada Humanities reserves the right to alter, update, or remove content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage at any time.