I walked on to the 2 train this morning and found a man surrounded by mountains of baggage on two carts. My immediate thought was..I am transported back to tribal times..
This man is carrying what looks like trash. Upon close inspection I notice the care in which he stacked his dirty boxes blankets and bags...carefully secured with locks. What I thought initially were piles of trash I realized was something precious to him: security, safety & belonging.
My idea of nothing means everything to him because it's all he has in this world...
..train conductors voice startled me out of my reverie
"Make sure you have all your belongings with you. Get to your destination safely"
On my way out, I glanced over at the man's pile and notice a newspaper hanging out of the bundle. It was a picture of Martin Luther King ...the caption read: "The mission lives on…"
Questions that comes to mind in my encounters: What do things mean to people?
The image of MLK -is imbued with indignant rage. This man never leaves the train - he repeats the same routes day in and day out. Engaged in a repetition to resolve an old script in his head. The voices that speak to him replays an old tune.