I’ve been following Craig’s work and I find his thought process fascinating, intriguing, and full of intention. Also really makes me think about what it means to know a place/space.

Walking — I find more than cycling or driving, train hopping or running (all wonderful activities in their own rights) — forces you to unflinchingly engage with the cultural or human geography of a place, to step where others have stepped, often in the same way they’ve stepped, with similar fears and concerns and hopes and emotions, and to read their accounts on a kind of cosmic parallel timeline while doing so. I feel this every time I step out each morning of a walk, and feel it most acutely when I’m walking alone, where the contention is between myself and the road ahead, with no distractions to allow me to believe otherwise. Because, just when you think the walk has petered out, or you’ve exhausted the day’s reserves: It’s at the desolate crossroads of Solitude and Mountain Pass that a hermit will appear, gifting you a frozen packet of bacon and two pieces of obsidian.