I Was Not Going To

Sense Of Place Is The Sixth Sense, An Internal Compass And Map Made By Memory And Spatial Perception Together.

The Rhythm Of Walking Generates A Kind Of Rhythm Of Thinking, And The Passage Through A Landscape Echoes Or Stimulates The Passage Through A Series Of Thoughts. The Creates An Odd Consonance Between Internal And External Passage, One That Suggests That The Mind Is Also A Landscape Of Sorts And That Walking Is One Way To Traverse It. A New Thought Often Seems Like A Feature Of The Landscape That Was There All Along, As Though Thinking Were Traveling Rather Than Making.

Everyday Life Is A Disaster, And Disaster Can Liberate Us.

Walking Allows Us To Be In Our Bodies And In The World Without Being Made Busy By Them.

Perfection Is A Stick With Which To Beat The Possible.