Boston You're (really special and I really appreciate you, but you're not my) Home.
Metropolis:
Living in a dazed confusion
Fixed in an ambiguous state.
Buildings stacked like cages
Human life over populate.
Metropolis, has got me out of my head.
Metropolis, got me crying in bed.
I’m having visions like never before.
I didn’t like it but now I’m not really sure.
The above was a short exercise I wrote yesterday, 28 April, in the aisle of Home Depot. This year I had started collecting paint swatches at my local hardware store to draw inspiration for timed two-minute writing pieces to keep my mind flowing and pass time on my commutes to and from North Station. Each color's name would inspire a new poem, song, or idea for a story. From January Garnet, Chenille Spread, Halls of Ivy, Lavender Suede, Opera Glasses, Elusive Dawn, etc.
Metropolis in particular is about my childhood feelings towards city-life; Despising it. The lack of nature, animals and all the hustle-bustle. Cities provide a a sensory overload that I'm not used to- whether that be the blaring horns, chatter of civilians or tight smell of garbage and cultural cuisines mixing together with marijuana and animal piss. But, for the past few months I have had the opportunity to study Media Studies at Emerson College, located right off Boston Common in the theatre district of Boston. During this time my aunt had graciously opened her Boston apartment to me giving me an understanding of what it's like to live with a city shaking your feet. Metropolis is the beginning of a piece about this relationship and how "I didn't like it"(being in cities) "But now I'm really note sure" .
January 2019:
Boston Common, Public Garden, Fan Pier.
My "broken down, ragged ford"
Boston, February 2019.
March, 2019.
Mom: 24 April, 2019. Fan Pier.
Boston in Bloom. 25 April, 2019.
Metropolis in particular is about my childhood feelings towards city-life; Despising it. The lack of nature, animals and all the hustle-bustle. Cities provide a a sensory overload that I'm not used to- whether that be the blaring horns, chatter of civilians or tight smell of garbage and cultural cuisines mixing together with marijuana and animal piss. But, for the past few months I have had the opportunity to study Media Studies at Emerson College, located right off Boston Common in the theatre district of Boston. During this time my aunt had graciously opened her Boston apartment to me giving me an understanding of what it's like to live with a city shaking your feet. Metropolis is the beginning of a piece about this relationship and how "I didn't like it"(being in cities) "But now I'm really note sure" .
The past four months haven't been crazy in Boston. There's been so much that I've wanted to do but had to let whisk by in the (many) breeze(s because Boston is located on the water and it's more windy than most people think). Courses, homework, weather, work calling me to leave the city on Friday nights and all weekend, plus the overall exhaustion had left me doing very little of actual exploring. What I have found myself doing instead of the nightlife and art exhibits I had been hoping to explore (because college is meant for art exhibits not parties, rights?) I spend my nights at the apartment, doing homework on poor hotspot connection, watching Community with my aunt, sipping on mugs filled with steaming tea from Paris, and googling what a Marmot is. By the way, it is a groundhog, part of the squirrel family and another name for a groundhog is a whistle-pig.
Although I haven't been able to visit the art exhibits or nightlife I thought I might attend while being here, I have seen Boston's own natural exhibits and life squandering around and luckily have had my camera around my neck or held at my hip to capture some of it. Boston has show me its own inner and outer beauty, as well as its many personalities through various means. Whether this be by the people I have met on my commute or walking up and down the esplanade. The messages of political views, poems of sunsets, love letters, and "You're Beautiful!" carved and penned in the North Station bathroom stalls. Squirrels and ducks, I know looking for food, just as curious as any one of us wandering around The Common or Public Garden, but at least they are brave enough to introduce themselves to a stranger. Boston's architecture, the older styles found by Beacon Hill is where I gravitate towards, even though I usually tell myself "Lindsey, try exploring Newbury St.". The beauty of a thriving market with fresh fruits and vegetables on my way to North Station as I hurry by to catch my train every Friday afternoon. Boston, you are beautiful. Boston, you've taught me to observe more, to look up. Boston, you've knocked down the pillars that once guarded my heart, clearing the obstructed view that gave me this bias city-hatred life I was living.
This week marks my last week staying in Boston as my semester comes to an end. Reflecting on it I'm sincerely going to miss the feeling of walking out the door and almost getting hit by a sidewalk strider, or the anxiety attack of walking to the apartment after just getting off the train and swearing I left my sunglasses on my seat (down two pairs this semester). Boston, is where my writing and photography has grown. My commutes allowed me to challenge myself with writing prompts or to read books and memoirs I've had on my list but hadn't had time to indulge in. I've been a self practicing photographer since 2013, Boston gave me an atmosphere that allowed me to explore and play around with the settings on my camera more.
However, I must go home now. As much as I loved my time here and little bit of freedom I was finally allowed, my heart still belongs to the less populated and smog filled cluttered life and it always will. I miss the birds chirping, burning char smells of grills and bonfires, my neighbors double beep when locking their car doors, and waking up to the sound of lawn mowers. However, Boston has a special place in my heart and as I leave a piece of me is left behind only to be feel whole when I come back to stay in late August for fall semester or when I come to visit this summer, because I'll be back this summer Boston. I'll be visiting with my camera and comrades -For God sake, you're only a forty-minute drive.
Although I haven't been able to visit the art exhibits or nightlife I thought I might attend while being here, I have seen Boston's own natural exhibits and life squandering around and luckily have had my camera around my neck or held at my hip to capture some of it. Boston has show me its own inner and outer beauty, as well as its many personalities through various means. Whether this be by the people I have met on my commute or walking up and down the esplanade. The messages of political views, poems of sunsets, love letters, and "You're Beautiful!" carved and penned in the North Station bathroom stalls. Squirrels and ducks, I know looking for food, just as curious as any one of us wandering around The Common or Public Garden, but at least they are brave enough to introduce themselves to a stranger. Boston's architecture, the older styles found by Beacon Hill is where I gravitate towards, even though I usually tell myself "Lindsey, try exploring Newbury St.". The beauty of a thriving market with fresh fruits and vegetables on my way to North Station as I hurry by to catch my train every Friday afternoon. Boston, you are beautiful. Boston, you've taught me to observe more, to look up. Boston, you've knocked down the pillars that once guarded my heart, clearing the obstructed view that gave me this bias city-hatred life I was living.
This week marks my last week staying in Boston as my semester comes to an end. Reflecting on it I'm sincerely going to miss the feeling of walking out the door and almost getting hit by a sidewalk strider, or the anxiety attack of walking to the apartment after just getting off the train and swearing I left my sunglasses on my seat (down two pairs this semester). Boston, is where my writing and photography has grown. My commutes allowed me to challenge myself with writing prompts or to read books and memoirs I've had on my list but hadn't had time to indulge in. I've been a self practicing photographer since 2013, Boston gave me an atmosphere that allowed me to explore and play around with the settings on my camera more.
However, I must go home now. As much as I loved my time here and little bit of freedom I was finally allowed, my heart still belongs to the less populated and smog filled cluttered life and it always will. I miss the birds chirping, burning char smells of grills and bonfires, my neighbors double beep when locking their car doors, and waking up to the sound of lawn mowers. However, Boston has a special place in my heart and as I leave a piece of me is left behind only to be feel whole when I come back to stay in late August for fall semester or when I come to visit this summer, because I'll be back this summer Boston. I'll be visiting with my camera and comrades -For God sake, you're only a forty-minute drive.
January 2019:
Boston Common, Public Garden, Fan Pier.
Boston, February 2019.
Mom: 24 April, 2019. Fan Pier.
Boston in Bloom. 25 April, 2019.
