The Promenade Is A Special Subset Of

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.

Stories Are Compasses And Architecture, We Navigate By Them, We Build Our Sanctuaries And Our Prisons Out Of Them, And To Be Without A Story Is To Be Lost In The Vastness Of A World That Spreads In All Directions Like Arctic Tundra Or Sea Ice.

The New Architecture And Urban Design Of Segregation Could Be Called Calvinist: They Reflect A Desire To Live In A World Of Predestination Rather Than Chance, To Strip The World Of Its Wide-open Possibilities And Replace Them With Freedom Of Choice In The Marketplace.

Getting Lost Was Not A Matter Of Geography So Much As Identity, A Passionate Desire, Even An Urgent Need, To Become No One And Anyone, To Shake Off The Shackles That Remind You Who You Are, Who Others Think You Are.

It Had Come To Me Not In A Sudden Epiphany But With A Gradual Sureness, A Sense Of Meaning Like A Sense Of Place. When You Give Yourself To Places, They Give You Yourself Back; The More One Comes To Know Them, The More One Seeds Them With The Invisible Crop Of Memories And Associations That Will Be Waiting For You When You Come Back, While New Places Offer Up New Thoughts, New Possibilities. Exploring The World Is One Of The Best Ways Of Exploring The Mind, And Walking Travels Both Terrains.