The cryostat. It looks like a futuristic modified version of the classic school desk, with the exception that the top slides rather than opens up. Also, it's kept at a -20 environment. This contraption, equipped with a mount, a razor, and two handles, slices and dices tissue for the whole of the 7th floor. I've spent the entirety of the work day battling out the technicalities with this confounded machine. I suppose it's not like riding a bike; whatever skills I mastered have dwindled into a faint recollection of how it should turnout.
The one thing that prompt me to record my thoughts is the way in which my mind flits and flutters about while I accomplish my task at the cryostat. The track the train follows is somewhat hazardous, similar to the same route my mind takes when I am falling into slumber. The cryostat is more than just an instrument of science, it may well be Freud's chair, my own personal one. Whilst my mental meanderings go about at their leisure, the cryostat's spell allows me to see these events absolutely and find solutions.
Buddah found enlightenment underneath a tree. I may very possibly find it seated at the cryostat. My left hand colder than my right. My right hand bleeding and broken. I'll find it.
The Skinny
- Jie Hua
- Detroit, Mi
- I'm in the process. I'd like to expand on that, but it's in the process. I go about my business under the guidance of gut-feelings and universal street signs. I see myself as a very quiet person. Not because I have little to say, only that my abundant thoughts know not where to start. As a child I fantasized about looking through a telescope to give me truth about the world. It amuses me now that what I am doing is looking down a microscope in an effort to reevaluate my holistic position. I am a loner, a drifter, a dreamer.
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