‘Traffic lights change, conversations change; same place, different rhythms.’
Each recordable, observable; each evading swipes at systematic order, the coordinates on larger social maps.
. . .Bracketed off from my surroundings, I face its myriad rhythms; striving for coherence, a whole, to contain, preserve what evaporates, resumes before me.
From this vantage point I yearn to drape a beautiful and intricately woven blanket over all the messy pieces. To gather, on the basis of observation and extrapolation, the collisions of chance, necessity, and of dreams; to transcribe the purposeful poetry of everyday life and plot the well trodden paths through the structure of the dense urban fabric. But each line, each sentence that I write, chasing the convolutions of those protagonists are only those that I can pin down, and they expose my findings to a rationality whose efforts of acquisition will always be too little too late, laboured afterthoughts, pale simplifications of their true objects. . .