ONE ROUTE: 3 WAYS/ 3 DAYS
Stephanie Kovach
North Lake
Drive
9/8
The brisk morning air this morning foreshadowed the coming
of autumn. I’m ecstatically
waiting for the day I can comfortably wear a sweatshirt and jeans. For now, a t-shirt and pants will do
nicely.
Walking along
North Lake Drive, I decided to start off my first day with a challenge and go
barefoot. Going barefoot meant persistently
examining the ground for harmful obstacles, which could pierce my sensitive
feet. The experience transformed
into a meditation. Instead of
thinking about what errands I needed to run, the homework that I was
neglecting, or what I wanted to cook for lunch, I was thinking about the
present moment. The now. I was concerned about how to navigate,
rather than contemplating (much like my experience in “The Urban Woods”). Yet, walking over a few sticks and
pebbles was unavoidable. I had to
stop a few times to remove debris from my feet.
When I reached the Calatrava, I started to attract
attention. Unlike walking near Bradford
Beach, I assume people rarely walk barefoot near such a classy setting. Is walking barefoot really that taboo?
Feeling people’s gaze, I started to feel slightly
uncomfortable. I wondered if
anyone would question why I was walking barefoot. Coincidently, after this thought a gentleman questioned,
“Girl, why you got no shoes?” I
replied with a smirk and the reply, “It’s an experiment.” He shook his head in confusion then
rambled on with more questions.
Ignoring him, I continued walking.
I could have explained why I wasn’t wearing shoes and we might have had
a meaningful conversation about the concept of walking without shoes. However, I quickly made a choice not to
give him a conclusion. I
determined that the gentleman would benefit from my ambiguity. He would mentally question why I was
doing what I was doing and try to uncover a purpose from my actions. Ambiguity feeds the imagination and I
wanted to give him this gift.
I suppose my moment of internal conflict was similar to that
of photojournalists and/or documentarians. Interacting too much with the environment can compromise the
authenticity of a piece. Yet, an
artist can feel obligated to interact with that environment, since it is their
focus. In fact, some artists even
stage their scene. There are positives
and negatives of both perspectives; however, I enjoy perceiving the raw form of
an environment’s inner-workings without contaminating it with my
subjectivity.
After my short interaction with this man, I started
contemplating (Perhaps, he, unintentionally, contaminated my experience). Is it really that bizarre to walk
barefoot? Shouldn’t this be
considered natural? After all, our
bare feet used to be our only way of transportation. And, it’s beneficial!
Walking barefoot exercises muscles in your feet that would otherwise be
lackadaisical. Professional
runners often run barefoot to strengthen these muscles. So, why is going barefoot not
considered a social norm?
At the end of it all, I realized that I would further experience
this journey via dealing with the blisters I had obtained. Joy.
9/11
Today I took The Park shuttle to MIAD, which drives past
Bradford beach. This journey was
much less time-intensive than my first.
Because all the seats were occupied, I had to stand. I found the challenge of maintaining
balance to be enjoyable.
We drove past Bradford Beach. The fiery sun was currently around a fifteen-degree angle
from the horizon and progressively hovered into the amethyst sky. Bradford was deserted. This outdoor serenity dramatically
contradicted the noisy bus’ interior.
Outside, majestic silhouettes embraced the sandy floors. Inside, the floor was overlain with
backpacks and the shoes of timely freshmen. Looking outside at the tremulous
waters, I thought that one could easily mistake Lake Michigan for the
ocean. As I swayed side to side, I
imagined myself surfing.
9/12
Into the night of the day, I walked along the sandy beach and
let the sand envelope my toes. The
wind fiercely combed through my hair.
It was cold.
I approached my favorite spot on the beach. Climbing into the elevated beach chair,
I let the white noise of the waves clear my mind. I looked around and saw a couple behind me. Due to the wind, I could just barely
hear the low hum of conversation.
Soon, the couple left.
It was dark out, but the waning crescent and streetlights
produced a sufficient amount of light.
Dark figures on the sidewalk would passed by, then walk under a street
light and become clearer, then would go back into the darkness and continue
this cycle. A few cars would pass
by, now and then.
Realizing that I had to complete a lot of homework, I soon
left the beach.
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