Dreaming West by Barry Dempster The most persuasive picture of America is the desert sand beneath a deep orange sky and, in the background, a makeshift town, a gas station with one lonely cactus pump, a tumbleweed stumbling up and down the tiny streets like a wind-up toy. This is eternal America, the final frame of travelogues. All the men are denim-tall, rugged and dusty, surrounded by horizon, the split-seed sun, the proverbial peaks of joy. America is one image after another, an inner eyeful overflowing into every vein and pore. The time of day is always dawn or dusk, never middling, always bare, perfect for the long shot of a dream. There is always somewhere further in America, one step beyond the sheer drop of everyday. Copyright Barry Dempster