the timboucher experience

According to my Snapple cap, in 1900 1/3 of the automobiles in NYC were powered by electricity. 108 years later, where are we? Thank you Snapple Educational Committee…

Not sure if it was a dream or a hypnagogic vision, but a few nights ago I saw something spectacular with my eyes closed. Wild landscapes over which were being drawn ideographic sigils - almost like alphamagnetic shorthand diagrams to describe the spirit of each place. The language of the weihuti perhaps?

Last night, I overlaid that basic principle onto the psychogeographic songpaths I’ve been configuring. I outlined in my head the usepaths I take from my house all the way down to Federal Hill, which I chose as a terminus because it’s the place where “Baltimore reflects on itself.” In the Civil War, Federal troops built an encampment and pointed cannons at the city to remind the regions many Southern sympathizers who was top dog.

For each mental landmark or item I typically notice and find my way according to, I drew a simple ideogram. Some very pictoral, some more sigil-y looking. And penned a poetic line or two capturing the symbolic essence of that location. Attempting to weave those together into a folk music narrative which you could - conceivably - sing to yourself while bicycling along that same pathway. And it would be so timed that lyrical content of the song would illuminate features of the landscape in a co-creative unfolding, the process of discovery, of exploration, or journeying.

I realize that what I’ve ultimately been studying so intently is simply The Way. The Way needs no other explanation. It’s a path. The Way has no definition, description or concept of itself. It’s simply a path worn by use, a groove cut into the spinning track of Time. Hence the obsession these past two years with habit formation, re-wiring the senses and snapping yourself spontaneously into alternate ways of doing things, breaking patterns. Discontinuous identity, etc etc. The Way may not necessarily *look* linear to anyone observing it from the outside. But to those walking firmly within its embrace, usually you’re just taking the most direct route from point A to point B, #whatworks, #bestpossible.

The Way likes being walked. The intimate transfer of energy enlivens it, uplifts pilgrims upon its paths. Every step lighter, every burden lessened.

• The Internet Is A Pidgin Language
• Think photographs into existence
• Saved Games, Continuations, Send Workspace
• Death of QWERTY
• Tentative Technical Definition of Mature Romantic Relationship