You try to get around in a city with more than 20 million inhabitants. The memories of dry winters and humid summers mix with the smells of stinky tofu and sweet durian in your nostrils. When you ride down the street in your orange shared bike, trying not to bump into the Mercedes blocking the hutong or the old man with the recyclable waste coming down the wrong side of the street, you don't fully understand the Didi driver when he calls you, but you know when he's upset. You don't know how to pay for stuff when there's no internet and you have a favorite boba and a favorite place to get drunk in Gulou or Sanlitun. When you're outside the country, you wonder why can't they deliver some barbeque at 2am in 30 minutes.
Once you woke up to the sounds of funerary gongs, saw the fires laid at some of the intersections of the city and felt a kind of melancholy. A feeling comparable to the feeling of displacement and insignificance conjured by the sight of the mega buildings drowning in fog, or the city's neon lights shining in the night.
You! We want you to send us your work!
“Urban fragments” is looking for your poetic input regarding your experiences in the Jing! Send us your best piece and enter a post-modern cyberpunk experience of the power of words in the digital era. Poetry and short fiction accepted!
Selected writers will participate in a Digital Art: Sound & Visuals piece and an E-Zine created by the Spittoon Arts Collective.
Send your work to:
sarafcosta@spittooncollective.com
Deadline:
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