9/01/10 Things That Hang in the Air

My daily walks have offered me the opportunity to be a keen observer.  By nature, my mind is constantly racing.  It's a trait that I have attempted to suppress, but I’ve never succeeded.  How glorious it would be to have a blank mind when you need it; true clarity when it is called for.  Instead, I get a car crash of thoughts; a train wreck of ideas; a cluster fuck of sleepless nights.  Jesus!  It’s a goddamn miracle that I’m not into drugs!

Where was I?  Oh, I remember.  Three words kept repeating in my head… an overwhelming dampness…and overwhelming dampness…an overwhelming dampness.  The humidity just hangs.  It’s caught between the ocean and the mountains, and you can’t escape it.  It can get uncomfortable, but most of all it’s the fact that the overwhelming dampness has you in its grip, there's no escape.  The shade of a tree won’t help, a breeze is practically useless.  Depressing.  Depressing because there doesn’t seem to be any options.

An overwhelming dampness.

I had begun to explore more side streets and alleys.  Unlike the main streets which were occupied almost exclusively by businesses, the side streets are largely residential.  In each home that I passed a similar scene played out:  Very dim lighting, television on, person sitting quietly in the corner.  Even when many people were sitting in the same room it was rare to hear anyone talking to each other.  Loneliness among those most familiar to you.  Depressing.  Hualien is not a poor city by global standards, but the air of poverty hangs over it.

An overwhelming dampness.

Some of the smaller storefronts project a similar image of despair.  An empty storefront with no discernable purpose.  Desk in the back corner, television on, dim lighting and a proprietor waiting for patrons to come.  It’s hard to imagine that commerce of any kind can take place in the face of this profound loneliness.

The most satisfying subject of my photography is human suffering.  The challenge of capturing human emotion is formidable, and when successful, a photographer feels a real sense of accomplishment.  The side streets of Hualien seemed to provide ample material, but I’m smart enough to know that mine is just the perspective of a spoiled outsider, one who has had it comparatively easy.  This overwhelming dampness is a metaphor for the state of affairs off the busy streets and in the heart of Hualien’s neighbourhoods.  I can’t imagine that life is as hard here as I perceive it to be.  I just wish that someone would give me a sign that I’m wrong.