I used to wonder how people could just disappear, pick up and go somewhere, change their name, assume a new life, and start over as a totally new person. Now, though, it seems not only plausible, but relatively easy to do. One of the interesting things about relocating is the overwhelming anonymity I have acquired. I suppose that when you've lived somewhere for a long time and developed roots, there also exists a certain responsibility for behavior, a sort of what-would-the-neighbors-think mentality. Being free of that poses opportunities for reinvention, risk, and perhaps, failure, that I might not have considered before. Still, there is something unsettling about being unknown, invisible, and transient.
It is very quiet.
2 comments:
This has an Orwellian feel to it. I suppose everyone looks at art through their own personal frame of reference. I know that piece could have (and would have) very strong resonance in a political context within my country.
Lots of impact in this...censored, a story we are never going to hear...
a character willing the observer to keep looking.
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