I walk through these streets and I wonder -- who walked them yesterday, last year, a century before me? What did they look like? Who were they with? What were their thoughts? The idea of someone being in the same place as I am years before, fascinates me. Their invisible footprints left behind, ones which no one can see; only to imagine. Their voices hang in clouds, never to be heard. Their finger prints hidden on bench rails and brick walls. The thoughts concealed, but never voiced.
These people long ago, who walked the same streets as I do, felt the same city air, saw the same iowa grounds, they left nothing of their journey but a thought. A thought that they had once traveled these streets. Only a thought of the anonymous face and the anonymous life. My feet walk along these streets on this day at this time, and maybe in years to come, I will be that person. The anonymous traveler who walked the streets. With nothing left behind but a thought.
Where did you journey today?
p.s. remember the project I mentioned? here's a sneak peek: