RECORDED
CHANGED
RECORDED
CHANGED
Her name is Kantiya Ekabut but everyone called her Gigi. She was born and raised in Thailand. She were in AIU for the fall semester of 2023. Back at home she is currently on her senior years majoring in marketing and minoring in international business. In 2023 Gigi had moved houses 13 times in the past 19 years of her life. Constantly moving, she connects with people and places. She learned from different perspectives. Everyone has reasons for their actions, shaped by their past experiences. It's a journey of understanding.
New chapter
I had been moving around. Now in the new room.
The moment that pair of hands reach out , a new chapter began. I got brought into a new place.
IN THAT PLACE
Crowded train.
Chaotic boiling with life form.
Disperse across the landscape.
Noise madness like a hive of bees chasing me.
Further ahead in the burg.
Unfamiliar houses.
Each bringing their unique cue.
On the edge of the bridge.
Sees swarms of cars blow by.
But no one talks or plays.
Solitary is walking and cycling quietly.
Start seeing a student flock fledgling on the sidewalk.
School uniforms are like a feather on a bird.
Surprisingly their feathers are zip-on and not button up.
To stick the cloth to wrap and hide what’s inside.
At her destination, she got off the train. And trails along her ways.
YOU KNOW NO ONE
Connecting new souls,
The steps we're set to pursue
Importer, ordering goods across the seas
Fear may whisper.
Choosing one over another.
Open account, a safety line we cast,
Eliminate risk of non-shipment.
Seek what it’s like to connect with them,
Before stepping your foot in.
Cash in advance, a different route
Take turn first and trust
A riskier choice
Pay first, then goods,
It suits the exporter, yet the importer fear.
Risk, explore, connect, and embrace.
In taking chances, friendships align,
What should we do?
To a world of connections, beautifully intertwined.
MS. STELLA THE HAND TOWEL
Not so late that night, not around the crackling bonfire but the sink Ms.Stella who dried the wet then she would get wet normally hangs on a rack. She is a storyteller, adorned with the gentle marks of time, and sits with a grace that echoes her lifetime of story and experiences. Shadows on the faces of a gathered community, listen to tales from Ms.Stella. Under the yellow light, individuals lean in,creating a space where stories unfold.
On one unusual day our caretakers took me on a trip. This time I dry the wet but in an unusual way. It is a cool, invisible rain that comes from her skin when her body temperature rises. Tiny droplets that form on her skin, making me feel a bit damp. Even though I can't see it, I notice the sensation of wetness that I absorb.
That was the day that I got to go far. Far from the sink stand and laundry room. She sat me down in the bag. When I got out the surroundings looked different. I see nothing I used to see. Out of sight of an endless squishy layer. Standing beneath is the rice that looks like a golden crown, in a column one after another. She put me on her neck which was not my usual place to be. She holds them bent, then slash them. They inclined followed the breezy current, felt the senses of soothing all around. Yet I felt a little sharp pain sliding through the skin. She threw them in the big powerful vehicle to steal the throne. A powerful vehicle with large wheels that pulls or pushes different tools to plow fields. The sounds it makes are strong and deep, take that gold crown down. After killing those golden crowns she put me back in her bag.
Emerging from the depths of darkness again. It's like a slow uncovering, like when the sun rises after a long night. At first, everything's fuzzy, but then shapes start to appear, the outline of a cupboard, the sounds of a water stream, and the colors of the yellow light. It's a mix of new and familiar things. She put me down on a rack near a square of water. She left me there. She is in the water with gentle steam. The warmth was hugging her bodies, kind of like being embraced by a cozy, giant hug from the earth. A while later she walked me to a room where I had a glimpse of a wooden seat. When she opened the door the hot steam rushed to my body. Inside makes me feel wet and dry at the same time. She put me on her face to absorb the droplet. I felt like staying there for ages. After that room I got back in the bag again and I can finally sleep after a long day.
YOU DONT KNOW THE ONE YOU KNOWN
A pair of hands was touching my face.
It is not cold as an ice.
It is not turning into water after touching my hot face.
But instead stays cold.
How should I break through this ice cold?
Or do I already break through it?
It is not the same feeling as last time we met.
However does felt like you has changed.
From holding the edge of my eyes brown on my face you change to hands.
Is that a bit of a change?
Your words are still cold, cruel and chilly.
Am I only allowed to hear?
If I see a path that looks warm to walk out of the cold I should go.
If I see the path that is cold too or I see no path should I walk?
OTHER REASON AND YOUR REASON
Looking at all the people, it seems that everyone has the reason(s) why they do good things, or some do bad things. What they do comes from what they had experienced in the past. Everyone needs to have stress in themselves or some obstacle that even if they already pass through. Then the new problem will come again and it will never end. When you couldn't sleep try create an image in your head of what you want tomorrow or another day to be. Imagining how you want others to talk, to act and to treat you. This creates hope that tomorrow is going to be a great one.
NO ONE KNOW BUT EVERYONE KNOW
Been a fews times.
Entering like a secret guest.
Quiet steps, no need to impress.
Moving through, playing your part.
Not talking nor nodding.
Somehow they know everyone.
All the photos are by Gigi.