On my original walk I found one specific observation I came across to really stand out in my mind. A small cross, leaned against the inside of a window, the blinds were closed and I took the cross out of context and viewed it as a symbol. I'm sure we all relate a cross to some kind of religious holy meaning, but I wondered how it would be read out of context, in a different part of the city, in a contradicting scene, would it lose it's importance? I made my own cross and traveled my path once again to find out.
The cross held its symbolic power. In certain circumstances, coming from a catholic family, putting the cross on a dumpster or the ground made me feel uncomfortable, even if it was just a piece of paper I had cut in the shape of a cross. The baggage I carried from my family and past told me that a cross was a powerful symbol, it symbolized blessing and faith. As I re-traveled my original footsteps I could just hear my grandmothers voice saying don't put that cross next to those dirty cigarettes. For me this experience not only had to do with the act of moving this symbol around the city, but the baggage and power this symbol carried and no matter where I placed it, it held on to that.
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