Traveling alone in an unfamiliar cities or hiking alone on
the mountains, my mind wonders, escapes to some other reality, at times leaving
utterly blank inside me, and returns with most unpredictable thoughts, silently
conversing with others around me or with myself. I kept a little card stock
with me when I traveled to Spain and Switzerland more than a decade ago. Along
with the card stock was a tiny pedometer at my hip, counting each steps I made
while traveling. I recorded the steps, mileages, and calories, and wrote
whatever it was on my mind. On the other side of each card, I made drawings (see
Experiment Diary/Drawings 1 & 2.) Later, I decided to refine what I wrote, and typed
with an old typewriter on the found paper. Now, more than a decade later, all
the details of the particular places and the feelings I was experiencing at that time still come back to me vividly when I read them. It is strange though, because things that I remember, I'm not sure if it was real or if I imagined. It’s
like a diary, but sometimes it’s purely
imaginable. These notes are my fleeting mind when I was
traveling.
