The Seoul Train
By Claudia Martin
1 Jul 2008
This is a story about a metropol web made of plastic, metal, concrete and lead. It connects you from point A to point B, from Sangroksu Station, to Daeyami, from Dongdaemun to Honggdae, from colleges to malls to plays, coffee in tow, over the Han, morning to night, underground, into light, over water, fast and slow, where are you going to go? Somewhere people want to know. Where classical music plays in parts, and waffles and coffee are sold in marts, stuff for you to spend your time, see people look real fine, into papers or hand-held TVs, claim any or no identity. Where sky disappears, the crowds, the sleep, it's hard to stand on two feet. But there's street musicians, crazy salesman, rushing, no seats, no room for bargain, some lovers quarrel captive words, sometimes flirting innocent birds, they're like islands of love infirmed, sweet romance until it burns. There are old people in corners, kids playing games, blindmen with paper cups, businessmen and foxy monks. This is where I go to town and leave my house, and walk around, and photograph, and drink my tea, and let things come over me, and wander, and wait, and be, and be, this is where people chase my scene, a dream, a place, a company- the Seoul Train.
1 response
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Rey mos gave props (10 Jun 2009):
I like the story and it reminded of my interest in transport system as part of my profession in urban planning.
