I look around me and all I see are bricks. Thousands of red, rectangular prisms, baked by the hot Arizona sun. I look up towards the sky and see large, white puffy clouds glazed with the rays of the sun. I turn back towards the many piles of red bricks. In the distance men are violently pulling the neatly stacked piles apart. They reach metal spatulas into large buckets of mysterious gray, slimy goo and slap it vigorously onto each brick. Then, they plop the brick on top of the one before it. Slowly, but definitely the process continues, brick upon brick, as the men work upward and out. With hours of waiting and watching, the sun sets peacefully in the western sky, turning it to a blaze of fiery pink and orange. The white clouds become balls of red fire, matching the color of the bricks. Suddenly, the men begin to call out to one another and together they gather in a clump that looks like long stems of cattail growing beside the swift flowing waters of a river. I dare not call out to them for fear they would accuse me of trespassing on their fun. As they look at their creation, I too look to see the final, completed project. Before me, in the midst of the sky set ablaze by the setting sun, is a tall, long wall. My mouth drops open at the site and majesty of the wall, so new and young. Even more so, I am perplexed by the appearance of the men hoisting a large wooden sign, painted gold with shining silver letters. The sign showcases a quote from Albert Einstein. "Try not to be a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value."