love letters to my neighborhood :

Sometimes things are funny. Mostly, things are funny. I recently did a massive jobsearch (50 applications), and interviewed for teaching positions as far away as Utah, and then I ended up accepting a job nearer home than I started. Yep. 15 minutes' walk is a whole lot closer than Utah. After this surprising outcome, I decided I needed to do some sort of ritual to renew my connection with Atlanta, and with the neighborhood I'd been so sure I was leaving. I made small prints of a set of photographs I'd taken in the neighborhood last Spring. I wrote a poem about Spring by 12th century Chinese poet Chu Hsi on the backs of the prints, then stamped them with my swanky eraser-carved chops, and walked them over to Kinko's for lamination. The next morning I spent as the Easter Bunny of Shiny Photos, hanging the laminated pictures around the neighborhood in places I thought they might be found by observant walkers. Not too hidden, not too obvious. Some people will think this is corny, but I used the strings from Finding Vanished Atlanta to hang the photos from trees, telephone poles, gates... Refindind the city I love.

everything endlessly and suddenly new