APR 2022
There is an actual place in Toronto that is referred to as Garbage Beach. On the map it is colonially called Half Moon Bay and it is located on the shores of Lake Ontario—one of the five Great Lakes. Garbage Beach is this little section of the waterfront off the main pedestrian trail that for some reason—probably easily proven by water flow and land placement—collects plenty of microplastics and waste. It feels like the ocean.
You look at your feet and there is a confetti of colours.
This was where I went to practice with my wearable. The walking practice took place going, arriving, and leaving Garbage Beach. It became more of a ritual and less of surprised learning. I went at times where it was quiet, and rarely ran into a single soul. I went when the sand was too wet for the tool, and discovered other ways to engage with the grounds. One time I took a friend to capture the event, and he was surprised what I was doing. He thought it was just a performance and was like: “oh that is what you are doing.” There is a showing-doing in his mind too.
Every visit it left me open to the place, and attentive to what was underneath.
What does this say about knowing a place?
