This is my story. It is, I guess, in a manner of speaking, a story about maps – maps and ghosts and memory, and how all those things overlay and underlay and weave themselves through each other. It may be mostly about mapping out that mysterious desire to root out the hidden in your own self, what you never knew you’d lost until an invisible hand points the direction to discovery.
I’m a cartographer by trade, working for the Department of the Interior, Geological survey. I map out walking trails, so you’d think that physical maps, topographicals, would be what interests me, but that’s not the case. Outdated maps with long gone boundaries, erased features, stone walls, wells, property lines and locations that no longer exist get my attention. I hold close to heart those things which have disappeared, been eradicated or overwritten.
I revel in the cartography of subversion, if you…
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