Knowledge as Movement and Dwelling: Difference between revisions
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<span class="return link" data-page-title="Wayfaring the BW project" data-section-id="1" data-encounter-type="return">[[Wayfaring the BW project#Covid-19 Remote | Landmarks are defining features in the land that traditionally play an important role in Inuit topographical understandings of their land and its resources. They are important orienting features to keep one's bearing while travelling and to determine where one is located at any given moment (Aporta date). | ||
As a figure in this knowledge-land-scape they perform certain findings and insights that you can gather along the way. These insights are not always obvious when you follow only the three main cuts of the knowledge-land-scape. Like this one, they rather reveal themselves to you, as you respond to specific invitations, detours and ice pressure ridges. | |||
The insight that these landmarks have to offer are always particular to the paths and trails that lead towards them, and their meaning materializes in relation to where you come from, where are you going and what decisions you have made on the way. | |||
The way that the earth smells at a particular corner in my city, where I have lived most of my adult life, has never felt as meaningful to me as it does after spending so much time on the move. The smell of catpee and rainwater, entangled with the life that was lived on that corner, matters. At least it matters to me. The memories that give it this meaning, this earth - a wet, stinking clump of cheap, black mud in my hand - are from a different me. A me that would leave, and return, and leave, and become other. Become other, but return. A me that would with my friend until three in the morning on that corner, in the rain - even if I saw them every day - and would see them the next day. A me, that would lie in that grass, on the corner, next to the cheap, black, cat pee, mud- at night, working out a text-message to my lover. A me that one day I didn't return. The text was sent. The friend and I finally parted ways. But the cheap black mud just stayed. Never left, never became. It just was. Holding on to this meaning. Patiently waiting until I would come and collect my matter. | |||
<span class="return to cut 3 link" data-page-title="Wayfaring the BW project" data-section-id="1" data-encounter-type="return">[[Wayfaring the BW project#Covid-19 Remote Interviews|Cut 3: Wayfaring the BW Project]]</span> | |||
This is the easy link to the <span class="return to cut 1 link" data-page-title="Multiple Voices" data-section-id="0" data-encounter-type="return">[[Multiple Voices|Cut 1: Multiple Voices]]</span> | This is the easy link to the <span class="return to cut 1 link" data-page-title="Multiple Voices" data-section-id="0" data-encounter-type="return">[[Multiple Voices|Cut 1: Multiple Voices]]</span> | ||
Revision as of 20:20, 13 January 2025
Landmarks are defining features in the land that traditionally play an important role in Inuit topographical understandings of their land and its resources. They are important orienting features to keep one's bearing while travelling and to determine where one is located at any given moment (Aporta date).
As a figure in this knowledge-land-scape they perform certain findings and insights that you can gather along the way. These insights are not always obvious when you follow only the three main cuts of the knowledge-land-scape. Like this one, they rather reveal themselves to you, as you respond to specific invitations, detours and ice pressure ridges.
The insight that these landmarks have to offer are always particular to the paths and trails that lead towards them, and their meaning materializes in relation to where you come from, where are you going and what decisions you have made on the way.
The way that the earth smells at a particular corner in my city, where I have lived most of my adult life, has never felt as meaningful to me as it does after spending so much time on the move. The smell of catpee and rainwater, entangled with the life that was lived on that corner, matters. At least it matters to me. The memories that give it this meaning, this earth - a wet, stinking clump of cheap, black mud in my hand - are from a different me. A me that would leave, and return, and leave, and become other. Become other, but return. A me that would with my friend until three in the morning on that corner, in the rain - even if I saw them every day - and would see them the next day. A me, that would lie in that grass, on the corner, next to the cheap, black, cat pee, mud- at night, working out a text-message to my lover. A me that one day I didn't return. The text was sent. The friend and I finally parted ways. But the cheap black mud just stayed. Never left, never became. It just was. Holding on to this meaning. Patiently waiting until I would come and collect my matter.
Cut 3: Wayfaring the BW Project
This is the easy link to the Cut 1: Multiple Voices