Forgotten Objects - The City of Reveries

FORGOTTEN OBJECTS

- The City of Reveries -

Graduation Thesis

INE MEI

“One can undoubtedly become aware of existing by escaping from space.”

In the realm of dreaams, the verity of existence surpasses that of reality itself. It is therein that the quintessence of our fears, doubts sorrows intertwine with the fabric of being.

- The Poetics of Space

The Bridge

Keywords: Iron Bridge, connecting to various structures, Surreal Metropolis

In the dwellings of the corner , I seek the light at the crown of the tower , as time passes by, in this very moment I cease to exist.

Aboard the ship setting sail in its reveries, Afloat in the casualties of memory.

As the dreamer breaks out of her chrysalis, she crosses the bridge, connecting her to the world, introducing her to its vast expanse. The Dreamer begins the search of self. On this journey, she encounters various objects. She feels as if the objects are speaking to her. Forming a solid sense of identity.

Dialogs are yet to be exchanged, new memories yet to be woven.

01 Water Tower

Keywords: Solitary Water Tower with Ladder, Field of grass

She finds herself in a place strangely familiar. A vast field of grass. a boundless clear sky.

At what seemed the center, stands a solitary Water Tower

The water tower introduces itself with a monologue:

“I am no one, I am merely a provider. Invisible to many, forgotten by the vast majority of society

A

utilitarian,

A

sever boy

I

stand my post, if not, expendable.”

Tears brimming, the traveler steps forward and embraces him. Her warmth and touch rejuvenates him, a memory engraved.

“ Go on little girl, follow the traces of my veins, they will lead you to the city.”

The Gatekeeper

02 Dam

Keywords: Dam with controlled streams, Massive angled wedge of concrete

Guided by a distinctive hum, she follows the source to see a monumental sight— an angled wedge of concrete, cradling a reservoir of water controlled with purpose.

The Dam addresses her :

I stand sentinel, a guardian’s grace, In the realms of the metropolis, I stand my place.

A gatekeeper, a repository, a witness, for journeys untold. I watch as lives intertwi ne, As stories unfold.

The strangers who’ve passed through my heart, On a journey set to be embarked At crossroads do they part, to destinies unknown. In divergent corners , will their stories be sewn Their essence lingers, In the city’s soul.

The Dreamer stood in awe, contemplating the immense structure before her. Its presence seemed to hold a significance, a sentinel overseeing the ebb and flow of life within the city. Controlled pressures of streams flowed out, a symphony of controlled chaos. She moved forward, stepping through the shadows and into the heart of the dam.

Keywords: Interior of Dam , Network of Catwalks and Platforms, crisscrossing above a pool of water

The air was thick with anticipation, each breath carrying a sense of purpose. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the concrete walls , with the distant hum of machinery. She could feel the pulse of the city coursing through her veins, resonating with the rhythm of her own heartbeat, a tangible reminder of the city’s constant motion.

As she ventured deeper, she became aware of the subtle shifts in the environment. The air grew cooler, carrying with it a dampness that clung to her skin. The scent of moisture and earth permeated the space, mingling with the metallic tang of machinery.

Suddenly, she emerged into a cavernous chamber , illuminated by the soft glow of artificial light. Before her stood a network of catwalks and platforms , crisscrossing above a churning pool of water - a harmonious blend of rushing water and mechanical precision.

The dam was not just a structure; it was a living entity, pulsating with the energy of the city it served.

It was here, in this labyrinthine expanse, that the Dreamer truly understood the interconnectedness of it all. An understanding that, much like the Dam, she too played a role in the intricate dance of existence.

03 Sewers

Keywords: Sewer protruded from concrete, surreal landcape

Afar, she sees a darkness, a sewer inviting here to explore. As she stares into its emptiness and seemingly bottomless depth,

She calls out.

Her voice reverberates off the frigid sewer stones. The pipes and conduits quiver. Crafting a vertical soundscape which resonates out into the depths of the city.

The darkness begins to speak to her, a past that she had previously forgotten: Caressing her with delicate pieces of information, slowly coalescing into an image just slightly askew, with whispers of mildew.

Delicately, she wipes off the cloak of dust and dampness to reveal a once forgotten memory.

An image of her youth’s sanctuary , a space enough to cradle all her fantasies.

A distant reverie, such tender and joyful murmur!

One teardrop descends, a silent cascade. . . .

04 Tunnels

Keywords: Underground Sewer with solitude girl, Faint lighting

With a new weight upon her shoulders, she procceds further into the unyeilding darkess. Here, Time had its own way of redifining space, stretching the dimentions of reality. The underground passages unraveled like threads of yarn, winding through the shadows.

The past was relentless, it had found ways to catch up with her, creeping upon her as if a predator stalking it's prey. A barrage of images and sounds flooded her mind at once; these were snippits of memory she had fought with all her heart to hide away.

As I display here:

A silent brick fireplace.

Graphite markings of growth on the plaster wall, halted abruptly in the year

A box television, with the sound of static humming in the background.

Echoes of muffled arguments lingering in the air.

Sharp indents on the wooden floor.

A balcony, latticed with weathered tiles and rusting metal handrails.

These images each held great significance to her agony, contribiting to who she was. A soul fractured, yet whole in it's own sense. To be able to feel so deeply and reconcile with oneself marked a new stride forward in to the depths of the tunnels.

Keywords: End of Tunnel, Ladder, Complex, Surrealism, Light shining down

Delving deeper, the air grew denser and the walls seemed to constrict around her, closing in onto her wisp-like form. Each breath was a struggle. She clutched at her throat as she gasped for oxygen.

How long had she been underground? How long had she been aimlessly treading in these murky waters? After countless twists and turns, feet sore and weary, she could finally see a soft ray of light at the what appeared the end of the tunnel.

A ladder.

She climbs up.

Keywords: The Heart of the Metropolis, Intertwining Structures and Pipes

Rust and steam stings her eyes. With some effort, she manages to pry open one eyelid. The sight before her was nothing short of overwhelming.

Here in the heart of the metropolis , structures intertwine and connect with surrounding buildings ; adorned by pipes that would twist and turn as if to fill in the blank spaces of the city. The air carried the scent of industry; a mix of rust, the strangely comforting smell of oil, and vapors that continuously poured up into the grayish sky.

Traces of stories could be found if one looked intently:

They were written in the corners of the streets, fissures in the pavement, peeling red paint of the telephone booth, worn railings of the steps, weathered down door knobs, warm glow emanating from a distant window.

It is as if the city pulsated with life. Instantly, a wave of dizziness washed over her, as if she is nowhere and everywhere at the same time. How acutely present she had felt in this moment! This was a place of desire, perpetually evolving to adhere mankind’s aspirations.

The city was not just a place, but a feeling that beat reverently to the heart’s innermost dreams. It was place of stimulation, information, where secrets were whispered from ear to ear, forming a giant web of data presenting the city as it’s outmost true self.

Keywords: Intertwining Pipes, Clinging on one another, Forming a intricate network

The Pipes proclaim : I am just a messenger boy I cling upon the city structures, consuming everyday chatter.

The voices of women gossiping,

The newspaper boy that comes by the block, shouting “today’s news!!”

(usually ending with a shocking headline.)

The old man sitting on the balcony with a pipe to the side of his face, whilst singing a tune.

To learn about a city is to listen closely. Here, there is no need for knowledge of language. Excluded of all definitive information of meaning, race, and any means of social ranking - language is just a ballad of emotions:

As she stands there, surrounded by the cacophony of the city’s emotions, she then realizes that she is not merely a passive observer, put an active participant in the symphony of life, each note and chord contributing to the ever-evolving composition of her own identity.

07

The Scaffolding

Keywords: Solitiude scaffolding, with girl, minimal background

A Scaffolding tilts his head, peering down with curiosity. “Little girl, how have you wandered into this place?” “I lost my home” She says softly, her voice carrying the weight of countless journeys.

I have been here and there, A nomad, restless and wandering.

How I long for a place to stay A place that is secure and safe Free from strive, free from hate.

“A place that can only be imagined by our minds " the scaffolding answered.

“An

Utopia....”

“Such a place doesn’t exist, does it? “It does, in the depths of our very hearts.”

Home in her mind was a place of sanctuary, a haven of love and laughter. The years that she had been wandering aimlessly were countless; Every city she had traversed, each landscape she had beheld, served as fragments of a mosaic, juxtapositioning themselves in the place of her once forgotten memories.

The girl was lost, but with the consciousness of being . To be lost in a city had a fleeting sense of freedom and adventure. It was a dance with the unknown, a waltz through the bustling streets , a heartfelt connection with the earth beneath her feet.

08 Freeways

Keywords: Ribbon of Freeways, interwining, movement

“Come little girl, I want to show you something” the scaffolding invited, It's arms extending in a welcoming gesture. Without giving it thought, the traveler hops on, clinging to his structured form. Elegantly, the scaffolding regains its position.

Standing tall above the ground below, she could hear the sounds of vehicles passing in all kinds of directions. “Open your eyes” the scaffold urged.

Amidst the grey skies, rays of sunlight broke through, warming her ghost-like skin. The sight in front of her was astonishing. The freeways were like concrete monsters; It's arched legs protruding from the earth, stretching and yawning into the skies. The light streaks danced in union – metal vessels carrying stories. It was a massive web of information, with nodes serving as a connection points.

As day transforms into night, it began to rain. The concrete monsters took on a quieter demeanor, they seemed to sigh and settle, as if exhaling after a day of bustling activity. The rain soothed its tired surface, for the freeways bore scars of the seasons ; from the scorching heat of the summer to the blistering winter frost. In the rain, the freeways glistened like silver ribbons. The city’s shimmering lights danced upon its surface, simultaneously creating a dialogue between the nomadic and stagnant .

Perhaps in the midst of it all, she had found a feeling of home that she was seeking.

Somewhere not defined by walls , Boundless in its embrace,

For one who dares to trust .

The Streetlights

Keywords: Streelights upon cobblestone streets, surrounded by modern concrete buildings

The streetlights stood tall and unwavering, their slender forms stretched towards the starlit skies, whilst casting a warm amber glow onto the cobblestones below.

Each of these luminous sentinels bore its own unique narrative, its own personality that radiated through the night. For they were more than just fixtures; they were the silent companions to the city and it’s inhabitants. They lit the way for those who needed guidance and direction, providing a sense of belonging and a network of luminance throughout the urban landscape.

In the still of the night, when the clamor of the day had settled into a hushed murmur, the streetlights would begin their tales. They would narrate the city, its past, and the folks who had once walked the streets. They spoke of the laughter of children echoing through the cobbled streets, lovers stealing moments of intimacy in the shadows. It was a dialogue between the past and present, how the city came to be as it is now.

Among them, one light flickered rhythmically to the neighboring music; An unspoken invitation to a dance. Surrendering to the melody, the traveler danced further into the night.

With each flicker and sway, every light and shadow, was yet another memory woven into the course of time.

10

Storage Facilities

Keywords: Network of Storage Facilites, clinging on one another

Guided by the soft amber glow of the streetlights , the traveler continuously wanders throughout the metropolis, each step echoing in the quiet night. Along the roadside, The traveler finds herself facing a large network of warehouses , a clear sign that the bustling ports were within close reach.

Warehouses and storage facilities stand as sentinels, their walls echoing with the stories of goods and cargo that pass through their doors. They were the gaurdians of commerce the custodians of dreams. They stand tall, their steel frames rising like monoliths against the night sky, bricks and motar whispering of ages gone by. Their interiors storing goods from the furthest reach of the ocean.

Stepping through the entrance, the traveler was immediately struck by the sheer magnitude of the warehouse. Before her stood an interior with a three story expanse. The immensity of the space seemed significant, for it withholds the machines of mankind.

As the traveler looks up, its iron structured roof seems to streach out endlessly. These warehouses were not merely structures; they were living archives .

She procceds to put the image of her youth’s sancturary on one of the shelves in the top right corner , hoping that this space would keep her memories safe. Just for that day in the future for when she decides to revisit.

11

The Harbor

Keywords: Harbor, Large slab of concrete, Moonlit ocean, Ships in faraway distance

As she steps out the warehouses A gust of wind sweeps by, with a hint of salt. She follows the warm ocean breeze until it led her at the edge of the city. It was the convergence of two worlds—the urban jungle that never sleeps and the boundless ocean that never rests. What stood in the middle was a harbor.

The harbor begins with a monologue :

I am the edge of the city where the land meets the sea A reminder of nature’s force

I stand here bearing witness To the dance of tides and time The place of a lover’s discourse

The ocean, like an endless piece of silk tapestry, glistened under the faint moonlight. The harbor yearned for her other half resting on the distant shore. Despite the distance, they embraced the vast space between them. For the ocean was not just a body of water but a space of longing. This was a place of dreams, a place for adventures to come, a place that was not stagnant in its pose but changed appearance with time. Its arms stretching out into the water, embracing the ships that were called to her while sending voyagers off on adventures. It was an intimate dance between nature and humanity.

And in the quite moments, when the fisherman would whistle a tune, preparing the first catch of the night. The harbor would whisper her hopes to the passing ships. They were her messengers, carrying her longing to the farthest reaches of the sea.

12. The Lighthouse

Keywords: Solitude Lighthouse with a structured frame, on island

A bright light appeared in the distance, a light tower. It seemed like it was shining longingly at her, at the other side of the water. The traveler seeks a ship ready to board into the night. As the vessel gently pulls away from the harbor, she turns to steal just one last glance at the metropolis . The salty breeze kisses her cheeks, they were her memories now.

The lighthouse began with a monologue:

I am the guardian of sailors My light cuts through the darkness, The guide to weary travelers in the night.

A steady pulse in the vast expanse of the sea. Eyes that held wisdom of countless nights.

The boat approached the lighthouse slowly, its presence bringing comfort amidst the solitude of the island. As she arrived on the island, small wooden door with stone steps invited the traveler. The walls of this monumental tower were weathered, adorned with the stories of those who had sought refuge in the light. After a few rounds of spiral steps, she emerges at the top to the source of light. From this vantage point, she could see the metropolis at the distance, its lights flickering as if were sending signals.

“You’ve come a long way, traveler.” said the lighthouse in a low husky tone. She nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the journey she had undertaken, of all the forgotten objects that had led her here. The lighthouse continued: “In this light, we find solace. Its is a tangible reminder that in the darkest of days, there is always hope lying there somewhere. “Just as I guide ships safely to shore, you too must find your way.”

With those words, he handed her a small lantern, its light warm and inviting. It was a piece of the city, a piece of herself, to carry on her journey.

As she descended the stairs, the light in her hand pulsed with life, mirroring the rhythm of her heartbeat. She knew that the city, with all its forgotten objects and hidden places, was a reflection of her own soul.

With the lighthouse behind her, she boarded a waiting boat , the lantern casting its glow upon the waters. The waves carried her back to the metropolis, to the familiar streets and the objects that had become her companions. And so, the traveler continued her exploration, knowing that within the city's embrace, she would always find a piece of herself, a piece of home.