where are were going? how long will it take? what will we find? are we there yet? what do we owe each other along the way?
questions of the bus propel us on this mortal journey through time.
my dad passed away a few months before the bus so he travelled with me n posed his own questions along the way.
what is this journey, really? smart people being smart, creative people being creative, activist people being active. no, really. what is this journey?
sa·cred /ˈsākrid /
joburg - swaziland - durban - qunu - ginsberg - cape town museum africa - house on fire - bat centre - sliding rock - bikos grave - district six
< bantu steven bikos resting place >
there it hit me how dirt becomes holy rocks become reverent intellectuals become pilgrims when we honor the sacrifice of this young man who died for our freedom.
how does something become sacred after all? my dad insisted.
places everyday places turned sacred. the graffiti-covered bridge in ginsberg images of biko n malcolm n the panthers transnational solidarity pouring out of paint canisters the third class train compartment to kalk bay where preaching patrons don't wait for sunday where the gospel according to stevie wonder consecrated our commute places everyday places transformed.
archives it turns out are not for preserving but about giving things up
leaving us to figure out if the sacred is potentially everywhere brought to life by sacrifice n if social change requires it...