Being Out There

written by: Jaap Proost

WHENEVER I am in a large city, I often go for walks around three or four o’clock in the morning. I feel like a solitary visitor in a vast, private museum. At that hour, one can easily imagine that mankind is nearly extinct. The only signs of life are occasional; a solitary bum slouching along the sidewalk, a speeding taxi, a couple crossing a distant street. All this makes me feel that I am one of the few survivors left to contemplate the urban remains – deserted glass and steel structures, as yet untouched by time.

Sometimes I am still up at dawn, the gradual increase of noise and motion reminding me that I am not alone. I know that behind the countless walls in the thousands of buildings that fan out around me, flaccid bodies, winding in their blankets and dreams, begin to open their eyes, stretch their aching limbs, detach their bodies from brief embraces, and begin the daily ritual: soon they will grope towards narrow doors and shuffle out onto dirty streets.

 

-Cockpit, Jerzy Kosinski-