BY DENISE HUNG
It is defined as “the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another”.
When someone comes up to you to say they are in between places, do you usually react with “oh where to next” or “so what are you going to do” ? I find it rather intriguing that time after time when someone asks me this, their reactions are always somewhat surprised.
“We’ll see how it goes,” I remarked with a smile.
It is as if we cannot be in a metamorphosis state or progressive shift for too long. Because when it’s too long, it becomes non-transient and one is not allowed to be in between for more than a transit. It is somewhat a similar feeling to being in an airport waiting for the next flight, not knowing what to do or just people watching, perhaps taking the phone out and scrolling through social media feeds, dozing off to soft music, or unconsciously listening to flight announcements—a momentary lengthy phase of restlessness and contentment.
I like transits. I like people watching. I like looking at how they travel from one place to another: what they bring with them, what they say on their last phone call before boarding, or the first thing they do when they get off the plane. I like them especially when they take the ride with ease. I also secretly enjoy observing those frantic parents or older folks yelling at each other for the extra-forgotten-liquid-bottle at the security scan—when the security officer stops them, and there is a “here-we-go-again” stare. But I like them most when they give each other a warm embrace at the departure/arrival hall.
I take about more than 50 flights a year. Some plane rides are as short as 45 minutes, others can be as long as 16 hours without a transit. When there is a layover, it sometimes takes me more than 24 hours to reach a destination and I am not even home yet.
Over the years, I have immersed myself into airport spaces: how they are designed for travellers passing through in however short or long period of time; how they become a symbol of divergence or meeting point—poignant spots where souls meet and gather and be in sync with one another again.
We spend little time here. Most of the time we do not even bother thinking about the outlines or arrangements of a structure that holds great significance. These transitional spaces create connections, bring communities together and allow explorations.
It smells like freedom, somehow. Time is inconsequential. The voyage is as important, or even more essential, than the destination. Choose the right companion to bring along, pack lightly, and carry a sense of curiosity.
Be in transition as long as you like. Explore the current space. This is part of your journey.
當有人走近你說他正處於迷茫之中時，你通常會給予 “下一步要去哪裏？” 或者 “你打算怎麽做？” 這樣的回應嗎？讓我覺得有趣的是，當人們問我這些問題的時候，他們的反應總是表現得有些驚訝。
我喜歡中轉。我喜歡觀看人。我喜歡看他們如何從一個地方遊走到另外一個地方：他們會帶些什麽，他們會在登機前最後一通電話裏說些什麽，或他們會在下飛機後第一件事做什麽。我尤其喜歡那些輕松自在地搭乘飛機的人。我也會暗自享受觀察那些狂躁的父母或老人家，因為過安檢時額外漏掉的一個液體瓶朝彼此吼叫。安檢人員制止他們時，會露出一個 “又來了” 的眼神。但是我最喜歡的還是人們在離開/抵達大廳給予彼此一個溫暖的擁抱。
Denise Hung is a mileage collector, on a plant based diet, enjoys immersing herself in nature and being upside down on a yoga mat. Denise graduated with a patisserie degree and lived in Yorkshire, Orlando & Santa Monica, and is about to leave Singapore for Hong Kong. She co-written a cookbook (Kitchen Stories) with a talented food stylist, Elodie Bellegarde. She is thinking of publishing another book. While on this journey, she often contemplates about the impermanence of form and bring awareness towards the space within.
Denise Hung 基於美食的旅程裏數收集者，喜歡將自己沈浸在自然中，在瑜伽墊上翻轉倒立。Denise 是西點師畢業，曾居住在 Yorkshire, Orlando & Santa Monica，即將離開新加坡啟程香港。她曾和有才華的食品設計 Elodie Bellegarde 一起編寫了一本食譜（廚房裏的故事）。如今她正為另一本書的出版做打算。在旅程中，她通常會去思考形式的無常，並將覺知帶向內在的空間。