Footsteps in the Dark, vol. 2, took the other tape recorder and the extension cord into the walk-in closet, then shut the door.I recorded… something?
I don’t remember what. I do remember the smell of my cardigans, my flannel shirts. I remember the muffled sound of Cat Stevens singing, “I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul…” And I remember not knowing the word for “gay” in Mandarin.I wrote a letter to Estelle who, unlike my roommate, rather inconveniently did not understand Mandarin.
I wrote about how language determines reality — how not knowing a word for something might make it hard to know you could be that thing.