Traffic signal

He knows his clear power of sight can stop anyone, always looking into the distance over the lustrous car rooftops. He imbues the rush of some and lets them pass, temporarily fracturing the uncompromising pattern of the city and adjusting out-of-tune currents with a red strike. As he stares ahead, he sometimes sees a hopeless hurry – bewilderment behind a set of headlights as someone anxiously watches the digits shift from minute to minute. The point on the map drawing no closer to its destination.

He ponders every day over what gives colour to his life, silently contemplating the role of each unrelenting cable that sends a spark of impulse to his multifaceted control centre. This prompts his mind to wonder which of his thoughts appear on their own accord and which are subconscious – the result of a hidden trigger.

As he thinks, he wishes he could log all the resonances associated with the knot of time in which he is encrusted. He wants to see how the currents float in his system, affecting the vibrations around him. He strives to know how his movements change the colour of his surroundings, and if so, the size of this colour form that he creates.

He wonders whether there is space for a distant fantasy that one day he can perform as part of a musical, imagining thousands of passers-by stopping for a while to watch his multidimensional iridescence on a cloudy afternoon. One day, a bygone spectator would be reminded of his song after seeing a similar shade of green to what he once displayed.

Suddenly, he realises the colours within him can only reveal themselves when the city is moving, and he needs to be here to greet the current that awaits him. The city’s movements are affected by his conducted light and stored memories.

Even though the essence of his being is fragmented like shapes in a kaleidoscope, the sounds of car tyres from every performance register within him forever. His songs are composed of urban sounds and his routine must be choreographed to the rhythms of his surroundings.