I visited Chinatown this last Friday. Some thoughts on what I saw:
A kite flies in the sky, but is also attached to a string. It is on one hand, controlled by a person, and on the other hand, completely out of control by a person.
Most of the time, a kite sits, its string all rolled up.
Like a person trying to control how they live. Usually frustrating, though sometimes exhilarating.
A fan moves air around. The person is in control of it, the fan moves back and forth, from the same place to the other same place. The air might change though, and the fan gets to interact with different molecules, while it remains, in the clutch of a person (itself??).
. . .
Walking through Chinatown was probably what I had expected in terms of what I expected.
I saw the building where my grandpa and great aunt [why isn't it grandaunt???] grew up. The street below it was filled with people buying fruit. I took a picture (as I stood still, overwhelmed, hungry, and needing to pee).
I bought some things.
I saw my name on a (fake) license plate. I didn't even have to look, it was just sitting there, right on top. How was that name created? Where/when/how did it get here, how long has it sat there? Pretty much sums up how I felt there, in Chinatown. A name, stagnant even as I quickly walked around, forgetting why I was even there.
"I saw Chinatown today."
*Looking back at this now, after finishing my final piece, is really interesting -- I ended up working with another name that made me question it and myself in relation to the name.
A kite flies in the sky, but is also attached to a string. It is on one hand, controlled by a person, and on the other hand, completely out of control by a person.
Most of the time, a kite sits, its string all rolled up.
Like a person trying to control how they live. Usually frustrating, though sometimes exhilarating.
A fan moves air around. The person is in control of it, the fan moves back and forth, from the same place to the other same place. The air might change though, and the fan gets to interact with different molecules, while it remains, in the clutch of a person (itself??).
. . .
Walking through Chinatown was probably what I had expected in terms of what I expected.
I saw the building where my grandpa and great aunt [why isn't it grandaunt???] grew up. The street below it was filled with people buying fruit. I took a picture (as I stood still, overwhelmed, hungry, and needing to pee).
I bought some things.
I saw my name on a (fake) license plate. I didn't even have to look, it was just sitting there, right on top. How was that name created? Where/when/how did it get here, how long has it sat there? Pretty much sums up how I felt there, in Chinatown. A name, stagnant even as I quickly walked around, forgetting why I was even there.
"I saw Chinatown today."
*Looking back at this now, after finishing my final piece, is really interesting -- I ended up working with another name that made me question it and myself in relation to the name.