thankful for sound of storm came about when completing a teaching practicum placement at Alexis Creek on Chilcotin land, and the majority of the accompanying video also keeps records of the places I’ve visited there. There is no aversion to the land at Alexis Creek, as in every direction I looked the land took up my sight. It also seems that anywhere we went I saw traces of someone, something, some____… it became evident that I wasn’t the only being causing some sort of physical or signified disruption, for “even the storm / grazes across the valley”. The familiar sound of thunder made me muse deeply about my home in Taipei, which I was continuously prevented from returning due to travel restrictions and scheduling conflicts. Meditating also on the discomfort that my positionality and footprint is affecting the Chilcotin land, I started to think about how I will go about in my relationship to my homeland when I eventually return to it, but as I unavoidably disrupt and occupy it. In both my homesickness and discomfort, I realized that it was in this exact moment of conflict that I grew more fond and attentive towards the land. Despite the less than ideal path of reaching this attentiveness, I am nonetheless in close proximity that opens up possibilities for a caring relationship between the land and me. The video concludes by showing two footages of a path near my home in Taipei – it is a river surrounded by pedestrian walkway, as to extend the imagination of my future relationship with my homeland. Opposite to that which brought clarity to me in i am home even when i’m not, the water flows strongly, separate from the road.
David Ezra Wang was born on Munsee Lenape land (New Jersey), raised on Ketagalan land (Taipei), and currently studies as an uninvited guest on Massachusett land (Cambridge). When he’s with himself, he’s an artist, or a writer. When he’s with others, he’s a friend, a comrade, a teacher, a spirit, or a stone in a river.