How do I know I
am here and not there?
At this very
moment I am in Boston, Massachusetts. I know this. This morning I awoke to my
room flooded with orange light from the Massart tower across the street. I
could hear the T going by and the construction work on the new building at 525
Huntington Ave. From my dorm, the Prudential and Hancock towers can be seen off
towards the horizon, icons of the Boston skyline. If I were to walk towards
those towers, past the numerous college campuses and ‘wicked smaht’ students
dressed in Sox, Bruins, Celtics and Pats attire, I would eventually end up in
Copley Square. At Copley, H. H. Richardson’s Trinity Church gleams off the
façade of the Hancock next to it; just one of many instances of an
architectural theme of the juxtaposition between old and new around the city. Farther
inbound, past the Commons, congestion of Park St. and the brutalist City Hall
at Government Center, Faneuil Hall is filled with tourists, men dressed as
colonists and clam chowder.
I know I am in
Boston because of these things. I am not in places I know I’ve been before like
quiet, wooded hometown of Simsbury, CT or surrounded by brownstones, garbage
and hipsters in Brooklyn, NY. I remember those places and things I experienced
there… and they are different than here.
No comments:
Post a Comment