I found this green corner of a wrapper
when I walked to the Masonic Hall
in Dorchester.
It lay in a corner, by a raised platform.
Invisible.
And so I took it, and made it into a puzzle.
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One thing I noticed when I walked to the Masonic Hall was the shutting off of my vision, and the amplification of my other senses. Let me explain: My eyes are engaged every day and every moment of my waking life, the times in which I am engaged in a task. I am reading. I am drawing. I am memorizing. I am talking and making eye contact. When my brain is engaged in an actively intellectual way, so are my eyes.
But when I am walking, or doing something more physical and repetitive, my eyes shut off. I see, but don't remember. I am not actively seeing. What I do recall is that I can hear and smell and feel the vibrations of the wind and earth. My other senses become amplified. I remember the heat and the sounds of traffic and the clanking of a metal key against a belt buckle. Walking re-calibrates my senses and therefore my memory, especially when I am exploring a new place.
when I walked to the Masonic Hall
in Dorchester.
It lay in a corner, by a raised platform.
Invisible.
And so I took it, and made it into a puzzle.
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But when I am walking, or doing something more physical and repetitive, my eyes shut off. I see, but don't remember. I am not actively seeing. What I do recall is that I can hear and smell and feel the vibrations of the wind and earth. My other senses become amplified. I remember the heat and the sounds of traffic and the clanking of a metal key against a belt buckle. Walking re-calibrates my senses and therefore my memory, especially when I am exploring a new place.
