backpacks and Sac

It's amazing how something as simple as a backpack can have transformative qualities.

First of all, you've got the obvious physical transformation of your body's newly acquired carrying superiority. It also adds an immeasurable value to our survival chances, if caught in the wrong situation.

But I'm always interested in the less obvious, perceptual qualities; more specifically, the image that I project while walking down Post St. on a school day at 1:30pm on March 25th, wearing my backpack. Humor me for a minute and let's assume that random strangers have even the slightest care about who I am or where I'm going. I know that the mind likes to fill in the gaps. It's why we love mysteries so much. We love having to fit the pieces back together and figure out why some pieces are missing. Our brain fills the gaps with its own version, and I believe it does this down to the everyday minutia--the slightest glance is perfectly capable of forming a flash judgement within the observer's mind, from the fiery spark of attraction to the racially charged spit of hatred. I believe we all conjure up images in each other's minds all the time. The catch is that we don't control them.

The context of our lives filter the raw data through silk cloths of obsession, insecurities, ideologies, beliefs, suppositions, assumptions, stereotypes, biases, fears, hopes, dreams, expectations, and then checked against the ingrained psychological neuroses before the image blinks onto the screen of our visual cortex. I think it's easier (or more interesting) to picture the mental image of a person as a whirl of nano-particles, chromatic in hue, scattered randomly across a screen, making it appear uniformly dark, but constantly shifting and transforming as our eyes see their subjects--sometimes the particles hardly murmur, giving the tiniest bit of acknowledgement. Other times the particles swim around in shimmering patterns, recreating the most serene vistas of lush gardens or towering peaks.

And so to focus this long-winded examination (you didn't think I'd be brief, did you?), I am interested in how people perceive people, and how others might perceive me. I am young, and even younger looking, though I have a beard and long hair. My expression is plaintive, a little somber, rather absorbed, and filled with the desire to get from A to B. Walking past the Academy of Art's "Church" building Post & Mason, I catch a few glances from students on their breaks. Surely I must look like just another jaded AAU student trudging to class, probably late. That was true a year ago, during my last semester there, but thankfully it couldn't be further from the truth. The backpack transforms me into a student in the minds of others, nonetheless.

Once I get to the bus stop at Market & 4th, the image narrows down. I become a Muni rider, trying to get to work or school on the 5 or 6 bus. But as the busses stop, unload & load, and take off one after another, the image crumbles away to reveal the reality--I'm waiting for the Amtrak bus to take me to the Emeryville train station. But now the image muddies as to whether I'm a local or a tourist, and where I'm actually headed is anyone's guess. And thus the backpack dissolves my self-image into the swarm of travelers who form the predominant image of that identity ("traveler") in all our minds: Strangers in small spaces trying to get to their families, friends, homes, and new places.