Maps

Yesterday my Ipod ran out of batteries as I left SUB on my way to 109th Street. Needless to say, I was bummed about being cut off in the middle of my internal jam session, but I soon began to notice the noises around me. Of course, I still left my headphones in because I don't like talking to strangers, but in listening to the noises of the city around me, I reflected on how they differed from the ones from other cities we had heard earlier that day in class. To be honest, I didn't find it that different. One could argue that in cities like Montreal, one hears people speaking in French, but as I walked I heard people speaking in Chinese and Punjabi, only having traversed about  4 city blocks. I found the sound maps we listened to in class very interesting and dynamic, but I'm not entirely sure that it reflects the individual identity of the city that is being recorded. Especially in urban environments; many of the noises we encounter everyday, like sirens, sidewalk chatter, and trucks, are actually remarkably universal.

When we first looked at Hitotoki, I went into my standard "Twitter makes me grumpy" mood. While I agree with what was said about Twitter being a useful tool for social movements and organization,  I think it is aiding in the destruction of the concept of the personal, and people carry this behavior over into other parts of their lives. Anyways, (see, Twitter makes me grumpy) I was put off Hitotoki from the outset by their formatting, but once we examined the classic version, I think we all discovered something that was beautiful and profound. Those stories are specifically unique to the location and environment the writer is placed in. Some of the experiences, such as witnessing the two boys kiss, may be more universal, in that it could happen in multiple places, but that one experience is made unique by the environment. Hitotoki was my favorite map, because each entry works to distinguish it's home city and gives the reader a greater sense of the city.

(P.S. Scratch and Sniff maps. Think about it.)

Blog Attempt #1: Inhabiting Edmonton

To commence, I want to clarify my answer to Professor Zwicker's question from the first class. I stated that my view of Edmonton had been polluted by my knowledge of Edmonton's many failures in city planning, but after consideration, I realize I should have added a positive to my statement. I believe that many parts of this city are horribly planned, and areas with illogical and unsustainable planning are still being developed around the city. But there are a few areas that I believe are excellent in terms of planning, my principle example being the River Valley. Living in West-Central Edmonton, I cross the Groat bridge every day to get to the university, and frequently use the river valley system for recreation/dog walking etc. Like many people stated in the first class, I have traveled all over the world, but I have never seen anything like the River Valley we have here in Edmonton, and it's continued existence is a stroke of wonderful brilliance on the part of the city.

To answer the blog prompt, I will continue on my tangent about the River Valley. I live in West-Central Edmonton (Crestwood, if you want specifics), and as a result I have a great deal of exposure to the river/nature that is present in that part of the city. I both go to school and work at the U of A, and most of my social activities are centered on Jasper or Whyte Ave, though unfortunately West Ed Mall occasionally features into the equation (and maybe Ikea if I'm feeling courageous). IF one was to map my travel patterns, the trend would be definitively central, and I think this has a strong impact on my sense of the city. While I am conscious of the existence of the suburbs and of the areas in the east and north of the city, they do not figure in strongly to my view of the city, which, as I mentioned, is centered around the river. I think I have placed subconscious limits on my view of Edmonton that excludes these regions, and I believe these are limits that I developed throughout my time growing up in Edmonton.

Despite my ingrained rivercentrism, in the past year, I believe that I have at least become more aware of my surroundings. Much of this is owed to my recent acquisition of a car and the tendencies of many of my south/north side friends to take advantage of the new driving resource. I at least have an ability to relate street numbers of areas of the city that are farther away now, instead of just the basic 109st, 142nd, Jasper, and Whyte.