Notion In Motion
There is a strange comfort that I have developed in the irregular rattle of the subway and the odd characters that aboard it. I've grown fond to gazing out of the worn out windows of the fragmented doors and looking through a carbon copy of the windows of an aligned train. It's as if I am looking beyond the view holes of a 1941 View Master - A different spectacle behind each window producing a new story in each image.
I sit (for once), and consider taking my camera out. "The train will pass... I will miss the opportunity and I would have taken my camera out for nothing" is usually the thought that runs through my head, prompting me to remain seated and watch. I'm not skilled enough to make what is beyond the lens look anything more than a dirty subway door, polluted with bold white light and a crowded Mexican family. It really isn't until you are just sitting there with Chosen by Blood Orange playing in your ears that you actually look past the hospital gown blue seats of the subway and the teeming silver edges crying tears of rust, that you can see the humble splendour in an everyday journey back home to Brooklyn from Manhattan.
I find a sweet serenity in travelling home alone with no communication with the outside world. With no words except for the lyric Gods of Blood Orange the common tongue is neglected, which only enhances the clarity of my vision. I sit and think. I finally have the permission to not do anything.
I spend too much time thinking about the future throughout the day. We've all had those days; where we feel absolutely consumed by the notion of the future. Change is scary and lately a lot is changing, though as soon as I play that song, that one song that we all feel a spiritual connection with, the prospect of "the future" need not affect you because it's the past that is now eating you up. So it's in this time of the day - The end, when I am coming home, that I just allow my heart the freedom to think about the past. I know you shouldn't limit yourself to the past, but in all honesty, I am not thinking about it because I want to change it... No, not at all. The sentimentality of my past in New York is what reminds me that everything actually does happen for a god damn reason.
I sit and think about fear and how every single person in this crumby, old subway carriage has felt this almost unspoken expression...Fear. I was fearful of leaving home nine months ago but holy shit... I did...And holy shit, I am glad. You grow and you adapt and before you know it, you don't want to ever leave the new world you live in. This world doesn't have to be a literal world, it can be the new world that you have created for yourself, whether it's a new world of you studying something you actually want to study, or the new world that comes from the benefits of becoming vegan, or just doing something you fucking love.
It's a scary thing leaving home, no matter what "home" means to you; It's a scary thing leaving your comfort zone and taking risks in life. But there is one thing that is even more thrillingly terrifying - When you cannot imagine having it any other way.
Cheers New York.