This was one of those days where I was running late, had meant to take the bus but ran out of time and had to drive, which meant parking, which meant spending money, so I had a negative mood, and cast negativity on everything I saw. Since I was rushing, of course, every driver on the road was driving poorly and acting like a moron, and monopolized my thoughts as I drove. I took Lincoln Memorial toward Kenilworth, where I could see the Lake while I drove. This is one of my favorite things of Milwaukee, and one of my favorite things to drive past on a daily basis when traveling to school. The lake is such an interesting object, when it comes to size, depth, existence in general, and how much life it holds. I feel that the lake is something everyone can enjoy. I have seen things like a girl playing her french horn on the rooks overlooking the lake, to volleyball players, to a group of people practicing yoga right on the water's edge. The lake can be such a calming, soothing thing to experience, at the same time knowing there's so much more to it. The lake can be menacing, and dangerous depending on the weather, I actually saw a tornado on the lake over the summer. The way the color of the water changes is very intriguing to me as well. The water color changes multiple times each day, always some sort of gorgeous shade of blue, or sometimes a more sandy color. Day 2: Carpool from Kenilworth to MIAD
I had a friend who had class in Kenilworth, who also offered me a ride home. I walked from UWM to Kenilworth, and had an hour to kill before my friend's class was over. I went into the Urban Outfitter's for a while, realized I was broke, and decided to walk around for a bit. I found something that I had seen on the first day of this class, but this time I went back to explore it a little bit more. Behind Kenilworth is a small bridge that crosses over a pedestrian walk way. On the bridge, someone had written "death awaits," with a heart. It was in pretty handwriting, in a soft, friendly pink color. At first I found this juxtaposing what the message read. Putting those words at the edge of a bridge seems to invite the thought of suicide, from jumping off the bridge. When people think of suicide, they tie it to people who are generally severely depressed, or mentally ill. The pink, poppy lettering would generally tie to a preppy girl, assuming her to be happy in general, not suicidal. Then I thought that it wasn't necessarily a juxtaposition. Anyone could be unhappy and have suicidal thoughts, and that's not something that should be linked to any one type of person. Suicide is something globally recognized as an act of human life that could occur to nearly anyone at anytime.
After my friend and I left Kenilworth to drive to MIAD, I took note of my other experiences on the drive, while the idea of suicide was still slightly present in my mind. My friend is ADHD, and uses his driving time to sort of release all his built up energy he couldn't release in class, and talks a whole lot. I had a hard time concentrating on things that we saw and passed, however I had an entirely different experience within the car. Hearing his thought process spin and twirl around his head as he tried to put his thoughts into words was almost an energizing experience. This event makes me even more excited to be able to work in art therapy later in life.
Day 3: Public bus from MIAD to Kenilworth
The last of the three journeys was one on the public bus. I took the Green Line from Chicago and Water, to Oakland and North, and there I walked to Kenilworth. I explored the general are for a bit and ended up at the Alterra. This may be ordinary and uneventful to most people, but this was my first time ever being at Alterra, so it was a new experience for me. I mostly used this outside seating setting to document a few thoughts from the bus ride to this destination. When I first got on the bus, I sat towards the front. Two stops later, a middle aged man boarded and sat across from me. He was talking to himself, about all sorts of things, reliving his day, planning his night, what stop he was going to get off at. He even began to narrate the bus ride, he assigned nicknames to passengers on the bus, and people who were getting on and off the bus. I'm pretty sure he named me "The Little Mermaid," after making a comment about my "ocean colored" shirt and "mermaid red hair." I just smiled to myself, but the idea of mermaids interested me as something to incorporate into artwork. I generally spend more time observing the people on the bus versus the things we're driving past, mostly from paranoia and wanting to have some sort of feeling of security, which was taken away from me on public transportation more times than one. I'm generally relieved to be off the bus, I feel that it's harder to appreciate the world outside when you're inside of the bus.
No comments:
Post a Comment