On colorfastness and soil remediation

This site, this neighborhood, this fragmented census tract: like a stained-glass window shattered and then fused together again, light diffuses differently depending on where you stand. East Lake bears the marks of the toxic sublime, a palette complicated by interactions between cadmium punches of Southern racism and verdant bursts of community activism. This story is about colorfastness — the physical resistance of a color to the loss of its original quality. This story is about a place where nostalgia meets optimism, but this place that is not my home. This is an assay of simultaneous contrasts, a naming of things changing hues amid systematic shifts