“We all shared a feeling of hunger, empty bellies, bottomless appetites that when filled, kept us up at night. When we spoke we shouted, all our voices together, a chorus of pleas and protests, rooftop dreams, voices carrying from building to building, no sky scrapers to block them, we all shared a voice, devouring the ears that accepted it, that opened to us. We would be heard. We would dizzily take in those sunrise nights and talk about what it would be like to be heard.” - Roof Alexander To Be Heard: A story about Williamsburg Brooklyn
My previous post was with concern to breaking down barriers and dealing with feelings of isolation. This post is with concern to belonging, seeing what binds us rather than what separates us.
I now live in Williamsburg and call it my home; her streets are a constant source of inspiration. I always notice the churning and rumbling that cannot be quelled in the bellies of the people here. There is an incurable case of wanderlust we all share. We know who we don’t want to be. We are figuring out who we will be. I realize I am no different.
I walk these same streets looking at New York's monoliths which hold the stories of our predecessors. They silently understand. We all want to make a mark, a contribution, a difference. I often think of who lives here now, who has lived here before. I wonder whose shoes those are and what was the story behind it. Who was the person who had the gumption to tag the side of that building?
In the end we are all the same, animals making noises just wanting to be heard.
Original silkscreen print available for purchase here.