Recent Mapmaking (2014 so far) part 3
This is the third post in a series that I still call psychogeographical maps (or cognitive mapping). Quoting certain sections and using a selection of photographs to widen the project, which at its core still has the intention to be a Cognitive Mapping of Now – aiming to be useful for locating the current socio-political mood, and the psychological impacts of it.
The 1st post can be found here.
The 2nd here
A collection of the 2014 maps can be found here.
6 September 2014
“Homeless man [near bus station, Leeds], head tucked into jacket (probably soaked by the rain earlier on). He looks beaten [by life]. Strangely I never expect to see homelessness on a weekend. Has the 9-5 logic fooled me into thinking that homelessness isn’t a never-ending job?”
7 September 2014
“Around Wharncliffe, the displaced huge rocks, the tall, dark pine trees, and the almost monster-like pylons, make for an unusual and eerie landscape. A feeling of ‘something’s not quite right’ fits with my [current] feeling for a need for erasure or [momentary] disappearance”.
8 September 2014
“Realise with dismay that today is the day when Peak Hour rail prices are extended [by Northern Rail, meaning that I have to pay them if I travel after work now. Due to this, which just feels extortionate, and the increasing presence of ‘rail guards’ stopping you and asking to see your tickets (sometimes almost frog-marching people who just haven’t been able to get a ticket yet to the ticket desk), it is beginning to feel like this private company is harassing people already struggling to make ends meet, and seeing their earnings diminished. Yet I feel like I have to keep my mouth shut, because someone could always remind me that I haven’t attended a protest against it all yet (even though I haven’t had the chance yet)”.
9 September 2014
“Walk right, off The Moor high street. Barely anyone around already (at 6pm). A black male stumbles [just] in front of me, leaving a trail of smoke from something he’s smoking. He isn’t wearing any shoes, and at times looks as though he’s about to fall to the ground, but then seems to walk OK again. He looks like he’s broken down in life. Across from him a white male [sat in a doorway] who looks homeless clutches a can of strong beer. “It looks like America” is what I think to myself; a social space and people within it laid to waste by the cruel level of inequality we usually now – thanks to less rose-tinted US dramas – associate with the United States”.
16 September 2014
“Not sure why, but this area, the [hilly] former mill area of West Yorkshire, feels like coming home. Maybe it’s due to a mythical construction of home [as in ‘the north’] I learned from being a child. Or maybe it is because this area is [topographically, and settlement-wise] almost like an exaggerated version of where I grew up, so that it [this area] is laden with signifiers of early identity-forming?”
16 September 2014
“Looking at all the windows of the apartments lit up in the tall buildings, as the train leaves the station. I’m reminded about what lures me to cities; the promise of life, of people, of things happening. Yet they [cities] never fulfil the promise the lights seem to offer, at least not in neoliberal Britain. They always frustrate”.