So, this was it. I actually didn't know how long I was writing the cards for. Little less than 2 hours, maybe? I think I wrote around 70 cards. Anyway, it was a lot more intense than I expected. The crowd, the kind of lighting, the noise and the air at the space all put my body and mind in a state of unease. They were a bit disturbing, especially the smokey cigarettes floating in the enclosed space filled with people.
Couple minutes after the performance started, people gathered around my table and looked at what I was doing. But it was not until at least 15 minutes after that someone asked me if he could pick up the books and read them. I then said yes. Itt was the only time I was interacting with people. One man, behind my back, said to me that he thought what I was doing was really great. I ignored him. There was also someone picking up an already written card and looked at it. Overall, I was happy with the reception.
But what do that 70 something cards or names, or innocent victims mean to me? I really don't know. Writting down their names and where they died etc. has forced me to read the data carefully. For instance, I read that a family died near a US Amry check point. But then what? I am actually afraid to admit that I am as detached as I was before. I am anixous to find out what I have to say about what I feel in say a month or 3 months.
