Reflexive Visions of a Garden: Navigating the Personal Through Fieldwork
<p>An alarm is ringing. The following unfolds very quickly: flames, screams, my dog yelping and pawing at my waist, overwhelming heat and darkness, thuds of furniture collapsing, I am engulfed by a whirlwind of chaos, my throat closes, my lungs squeeze and… nothing. I wake up. But I’m not on my bed, I wasn’t asleep. I catch myself gathering my things to go do some fieldwork. I’m up from an ever-so-familiar series on my anxiety channel, occurring under my discretion, yet so unbelievably tyrant in its demand for my attention, that I can’t help but tune in. I try to shake it off, I take a shower and am ready to see myself out of the house. I continue to book my Grab (<em>Southeast Asia’s E-Hailing app</em>) just in time to perform my rituals, which have worsened lately. The practices are all different, making their way from my room to the kitchen, then my guest room and finally to the main door; that is where I look at my dog.</p>
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