November was a black hole month. I literally produced nothing on the personal front because I was completely immersed in work, so we are skipping straight to December, where the opposite happened, and I was on a self-imposed sabbatical.
Resuming my walks in the lil city of HK I have called home for many years meant another landscape to befriend all over again. I love the New Territories, where my family has lived for 14 years: the colours, the quiet, the daily rhythms, the old haunts and new developments.
December is a month of endings but it’s also the month I was born, so for me December is about beginnings and repetitions.
What does it mean to take the same pathways year after year, but be different? Or what does it be to be the same person and follow different pathways every year? What are the similarities between those two ways of life and how do I live somewhere in between?
The act of returning to familiar spaces is a source of great comfort for me. It also reminds me that time is not confined to my universe, but continues flowing in its own trajectories everywhere around me. I trace this in the worn roads I have always journeyed down, now with new curves or landscapes. Simultaneously, I recognize that time is flowing within me as I pass the same burnished mirrors looking a little older; a little more comfortable with the uncertainty of being.
I won’t be continuing the OOTC series into January 2018. I have shifted into another way of being. What new iterations I want to write remain vague and unclear, but that is okay with me. I have always desired only to be constant from inside out, which means to listen and adjust accordingly. The things I need to hold on to, I continue to hold on to, but here’s to letting go of the weight I apply on my creative needs.
These walking sights have come to settle over my tired heart and seep into the layers of muscle and skin that need a new rain. It’s a new year, a new year, and I continue to walk slowly and lightly.