September 9, 2010 12:30-1:30 pm
Chicago Cultural Center
“at first I thought there was a sadness”
Today, despite all of our marketing ploys, I feel mostly invisible. I see more people than usual not seeing us. This is normal to me when I am walking down the street, or cruising around on my bike. I am used to being mostly invisible in public. But this feels markedly different. I expect that people see us, we are practically in their way. Today, my friend Beth sends me this video, which I think speaks directly to how much people can’t see.
Its not a personal assault, more just curious to me, and I think about the advantages and disadvantages of being invisible. When I ride my bike at night, I don’t use a light, so I expect that I am invisible. I act accordingly. In fact, most of the time on my bike, I imagine no one can see me. I think its safer to believe this. Then its not so suprising when they turn in front of me or open their doors to my flying body.
I also think about how much people try to be seen in this sea, this sea of bodies moving about, all with specific tasks and things in their brains that prevent seeing things right in front of them. Even those trying to be seen may be missing the opportunity to really see the present. How do we address this?
Then I think about the stillness we are holding, Aurora and I, in the midst of all this to and fro. I like that we hold stillness, and just another way to be here now.