As I mentioned before (click here to see), little things can stir up a tornado.
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Half a pound of chocolates sitting inside the little white cardboard container had traveled around in several cities. Probably more than you do. Cambridge, Toronto, Hong Kong, Shanghai. Too bad it will end its trip here though.
I finally opened the box of chocolates that I've brought all the way from Canada. Dark assorted. It was sitting in my fridge for 3 months already, waiting to be opened and consumed. I never liked the milk ones. They are too sweet.
Strangely as I ate the different pieces, memories of Cambridge came back. Not one is the same in the box. I only took 4 this time. I think I will save the rest for later. Now I'm wondering which part of the Cambridge memory did I just eat? The multi arts centre on Yonge and Gerrard with all those MoMA pop art and dancing girls and Ellesworth Kelly's Spectrum IV on a super saturated rainbowy giant section? Or was it the scaffold pavillion with cheesecloth and studio chairs backings and my back didn't really function for a week? May be it was the ephemeral shifting womb-like cloud? What? I don't remember exactly. I just consumed them, no? Things will be digested and poop out and go into sewage, right?
Cambridge has hausted me for various reasons in the past few years. Well one is the entire architecture school thing. But for now I'm physically out of there for at least a year, hopping between bright lights big cities, so it shouldn't be that bad. Another one is the people that I've met and the events that happened. Liquid eye-wash that you find in highschool chemistry classrooms or even professional labs won't help. Trust me. Things you witnessed, or actually participated in, will never turn away. They might become pixelated as time shifts and transformation occurs, but those photographs and videos and things in other mediums will be forever stored in the little comparment. Maybe I'll upload them onto youtube one day when I'm all enlightened and caked up. For now I think I will just filter out the junk and unimportant and sad ones. Only retrieving the wonderful experiences is good enough. Leave the trash for the garbage truck to pick up if they ever come.
* * *
Half a pound of chocolates sitting inside the little white cardboard container had traveled around in several cities. Probably more than you do. Cambridge, Toronto, Hong Kong, Shanghai. Too bad it will end its trip here though.
I finally opened the box of chocolates that I've brought all the way from Canada. Dark assorted. It was sitting in my fridge for 3 months already, waiting to be opened and consumed. I never liked the milk ones. They are too sweet.
Strangely as I ate the different pieces, memories of Cambridge came back. Not one is the same in the box. I only took 4 this time. I think I will save the rest for later. Now I'm wondering which part of the Cambridge memory did I just eat? The multi arts centre on Yonge and Gerrard with all those MoMA pop art and dancing girls and Ellesworth Kelly's Spectrum IV on a super saturated rainbowy giant section? Or was it the scaffold pavillion with cheesecloth and studio chairs backings and my back didn't really function for a week? May be it was the ephemeral shifting womb-like cloud? What? I don't remember exactly. I just consumed them, no? Things will be digested and poop out and go into sewage, right?
Cambridge has hausted me for various reasons in the past few years. Well one is the entire architecture school thing. But for now I'm physically out of there for at least a year, hopping between bright lights big cities, so it shouldn't be that bad. Another one is the people that I've met and the events that happened. Liquid eye-wash that you find in highschool chemistry classrooms or even professional labs won't help. Trust me. Things you witnessed, or actually participated in, will never turn away. They might become pixelated as time shifts and transformation occurs, but those photographs and videos and things in other mediums will be forever stored in the little comparment. Maybe I'll upload them onto youtube one day when I'm all enlightened and caked up. For now I think I will just filter out the junk and unimportant and sad ones. Only retrieving the wonderful experiences is good enough. Leave the trash for the garbage truck to pick up if they ever come.
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