I think one of the most important things about making a list is the act of selecting each item with care....the taking of time to consider each object for what it is and also that object's relation to the whole. Our minds are already programmed to list, to categorize, so the process comes naturally. We, for the most part, like to put each anomoly, each deviation from the acceptable norm, within the safety of its own category, where we no longer have to consider its apparent difference from the rest. While at times this act could simply be a way of oversimplifying the things we find unsettling, the act of making lists itself, this careful consideration, may be our only semblance of control over a chaotic world. In the end, one question begs my asking: is our listmaking merely another self-imposed illusion (delusion?), or rather, through lists, can we achieve greater insight and understanding.
I chose to list some small landmarks that I consider day after day on my way to class in the early morning.
Starting from the parking lot where my days begin, there is:
>one small creek, meandering its way through the city. I wonder where it starts....and where it ends.
>one small-ish tree standing alone that changes its appearance as the light changes
>the screams and laughter of children playing in a nearby playground
>the screams and laughter of children playing in a nearby playground
>one large reddish tree that is lit up practically supernaturally by the sunset at night
>one small beaten path through the snow that leads to the greenhouses that are lit up at night like the glass pyramid in front of the louvre
>one crooked crack at the end of the sidewalk just before
>one choice: dirt path or asphalt drive
>one beaten and graffitied trashcan that never moves
>one silver keypad on the door to the art building. Inevitably, my brain recites the after-hours code even without me needing to enter it (* * *)
>one relic of a heater just inside the door that dates back decades, yet still stoicly warms the hall
>one wine-stain, barely noticable, from a recent art show
>several assorted posters for upcoming shows, the colors and lines change often, a flurry of activity
>one tiny key in the company of many that opens my locker where I keep my art materials.
>one tall pillar just outside the front door casting dark shadows over any passerby
>one mysterious chain...is it art?....draped between buildings.
>one long expanse of sidewalk stretching out in front of me and flanked by scattered trees like lazy sentries
>one or two ducks fly overhead
>one busy intersection before
>one arch
>countless grains of grit and salt so that walkers fail to trip
>one stranger passes on the left (going to the art building perhaps?)
>another on the right (music major?)
>countless more, a river of students, follow, some of whom meet my eyes, others who find the mysteries of life rooted in the sidewalk....line....line....line....look up dont trip....careful....line....rock...line....destination
>two moving doors at Reed and the cluster of smokers congregating outside
>one wrapping around bench where judges sit for the....catwalk...head up!
>one sprawling mudpuddle in which the sky is captured. Springing over the mirror...
>one precarious landing
>one path to my left unchanging despite seasons cuts across lawn just to save a few steps. I'm tempted.
>one chain link fence around a beautiful building
>one makeshift stairway and
>one army man walking up, inside
>three massive guardians of trees casting long shadows over
>one sheet of ice over which I glide
>one twisting tree whose branches frame the sky.....
>ten gloved fingers simply...itching...to capture it
>one walkway suspended in air over which banners are draped. "Vote *insert name* for Homecoming Queen"
>(in spring)one dog, eyes sad, leash tied to
>one tree
>one doorway on my left. Do I want to walk inside?
>one doorway further forward. Is there any room to wait?
>one collection of trees and sleeping flowers (on my right) I am secretly, exceedingly, glad that exist
>one black metal bench to my right now covered in snow where I like to sit in Summer
>one more further on, out of sight...remembered pictures
>(always) one recollection of the warm golden light that fills and touches all things here in summer
>four couches on my left on which I could sit
>one set of stairs going upward to a maze of office space above me
>one clock on the wall....still have time
>four numbers
>four numbers
>four numbers
>four numbers
>four more
>one doorframe my fingers touch as I come around the corner
>one seat among many.....third row....center
>one podium
>one table
>three (or four) minutes until class will begin.
No comments:
Post a Comment