When I entered the city, I feel excited for some reason. This city can make everybody excited. I have not seen so many people for quite a while. DC is not quite like this. Although Flushing reminded me of Qinghe town center near my suburban home in Beijing, standing under the big screens in Manhattan, I felt I was at the center of the world.
At Flushing, among many Chinese, I felt lonely. I couldn’t understand people’s southern dialect. They are the strangest countrymen. Later that day, the busy city began to make me a little tired. Moving slowly on the way back to Manhattan, again, I felt I was at home in the traffic on the busy streets of Beijing. My minds moved in and out between two worlds, fragmented memories, and dreams.
The day concluded fast. Back onto the interstate, this part of America is continuous power plants, container storage place, power poles and lines, ports, every kind of deserted factories. Surprisingly, these are the scenes I would love to paint in my artworks. Man-made but devoid of men, what a landscape!