Our Lines of Vision

All around us, there are worlds we don't see. Sometimes, riding the train, we see things we can't see from the ground, from our cars. The line of sculptures on a gentle bank of a hill. We could see them from a parking lot, but it's only sitting on the train, pulling into the station, that we understand that they were placed there for the riders of the Light Rail. Or the graffiti we could never see while driving. That's meant for us, secret art that explodes into our lines of vision only when we're on the train. Look: we are all of us sending messages, communicating our loneliness and anger and love. When we ride, we ride together. All we have to do is look.


Image: View of buildings and graffiti along the light rail route in St. Louis courtesy of H.R. for Along the Light Rail.

Freestyle Friday

For today's post, we've decided to share some of the images we've gathered traveling along the light rail.

And it's freestyle Friday, an "open thread." So if you have suggestions or links you want to share relating to light rail travel or public transportation, feel free to place them in the comments section.

By the way, we've coordinated today's post here with our SIUE black studies blog by using a common soundtrack.

Have a good weekend.

audio: excerpt from John Coltrane's "Alabama;" excerpt from The Roots' "Clones."

Views Along the Light Rail: Track 1

Well, we're still in the process of working out the kinds visual and mixed media compositions we want to do with this project. You know how it is, you compose, revise, and compose again. For now, we've provided an early look at the ideas we've developing.

This short video features a few scenes you might witness while traveling along the light rail here in the Metro East. There's more to come, of course.

And oh, it's "open thread" Friday, so if you have suggestions or links you want to share relating to light rail travel or public transportation, please feel free to place them in the comments section.

Have a good weekend.

Heading to Shiloh Scott

At 9:30 in the morning, the Light Rail in Illinois is not crowded. He rides backwards out to Scott Air Force Base. The day is blue skies, green fields. Something like kudzu grows out at the treeline near Fairview. The conductor’s voice is crisp through the speakers. At Belleville, peeling old A-frame houses crowd a hill near the station. He likes subway maps, train maps, the straight lines, the blue and red squares. Inbound, outbound.

Almost everyone gets off at the stop for SWIC. Some have backpacks, suitcases on rollers. Some are empty-handed. He likes to think the ones that don’t carry a bag have a pencil tucked into a pocket, a piece of paper folded up somewhere, but maybe not. Maybe they ride the train and get off and walk though parking lots into a classroom and sit and listen for fifty minutes and leave and get back on the train. Taking words back into the day. Ideas. Nobody can stop you from hearing. Nobody can still a voice in your mind. Inbound.