LOOK 0922: Bright Whites
Words by: Jamie Lau
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On the sun-dappled cliff above raging waters, we slowly become consumed by the encroaching fog. Moss of precise shades of green cling to the edges of rocks, clumped together in strings on inconsistent length, like a half-cooked beard waiting to be trimmed. It is only when the air becomes hazy and we could only see what’s directly in front of us, the sun aching to pierce through this dense cloud with fuzzy edges, that white in all its flavors and forms begins to reveal itself to us. Suddenly, this ridge we thought we knew so well, spending hours after school winding our way through roads so familiar to us that we could do it with our eyes closed, becomes foreign territory. How is it possible to be lost in the darkness of bright whites? The mind roams more widely and freely, however, when consumed in the off-white density of this monster we call fog. We are blank slates, teetering on the edges of discovery. With no more rules or lines to tell us where to go, the only steps we follow are the voices uniquely ours, which give us permission to dance, to get lost, to perch ourselves on the rocks, and exist as strangers in this unfamiliar place.
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