If you’re anything like me, you always want to know more about the place you’re in. There’s always something new and undiscovered because we live our lives centered around our habits and values. Beyond that, there are plenty of new things to experience.
For me, creating a map is getting to know a place, a process, a system, a thought. We make maps of places we don’t know or places we know but want to know better, or places we know but want others to come find.
What is a Place?
When I say “places,” those places could be something other than geographic. There are plenty of places I’ve been in my mind that hold no geographic reality. Some are imaginary places I return to in dreams—a culmination of multiple realities all congealed into one. There are places I’ve been emotionally that are somewhere I don’t want to visit again but may have to. Also, there are places I go to mentally or intellectually that take me on a journey through an idea. This blog here could be one of those places. I’ve certainly gone there for the post: “When Is a Drawing a Map?” I’m most definitely going there today.
Places could also be those traditional places we typically attribute maps to that exist somewhere on the surface of our planet. There’s a reliable way to get there, usually navigated by roads or trails.
Original Maps
I think a lot about how maps came into existence and how they operated as tools. You typically see maps created by colonizers assessing the resources of an area. How many countless voyages brought back “samples” of flora and fauna (often killed to be studied) that now populate our Museums of Natural History? While the explorers themselves may have been interested in seeing new lands for its sense of wonder, those funding the expeditions (governments and royalty) were interested in expanding their empire to a place that could make them wealthier. The discovery of what was considered a valuable resource often led to the destruction and alteration of whatever was there. So, what was initially mapped was destined to be altered due to its mapping. Merely being a place interesting enough to be mapped almost surely foretold its doom. This isn’t a thing of the past, as you can see from this recent survey of Undiscovered Gas Resources in Oregon.
You can tell this by looking at maps from original settlers. In the early years of occupation, you’ll see natural landmarks like rivers, mountains, forests, rock formations. (Like this one of the Arizona territory—Phoenix isn’t even on the map yet.) Look at the same mapped area years later and you’ll see organized rectilinear plats. (Like this one of the Salt River Valley, just 40 years later.) You could say that the practice of mapping had a strong hand in our environmental degradation, all for the purpose of exploiting natural resources.
Mapmaking Responsibilities
Because of this history, when I make maps, I ask myself whether drawing people to a place will be beneficial or harmful. Unfortunately, I sometimes think of this after the fact. When I was creating the Phoenix Cactus Map, I was so enthusiastic about sharing the desert’s beauty with others that I didn’t stop to think whether I was inviting hordes of people to invade a homeowner’s privacy. When someone asked me to do a walking tour of the map, I realized I didn’t feel comfortable walking a group of people up to someone’s front yard, without their permission. It reminded me of the days I was at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin in Spring Green, Wisconsin for an artist residency. Some days, I’d wake up to a crowd of people chattering beneath my window. It was a tour guide showing them around the property and the residents became part of the exhibit.
I imagine that past mapmakers may have also had this lapse of reason. The whole “good intentions” and path to hell thing. (Maybe I should make a map of that path…) But then, some of those mapmakers were blatantly mapping out good lumber or veins of copper. They meant well—just not in the “well” sense that I understand.
NOT Making a Map
Sometimes, the responsible thing to do about mapping or comprehending a place is to NOT leave a map behind. During my research of ancient canals in Phoenix, I found that maps of archaeological sites and exact locations of former canals were redacted from their reports. It hadn’t occurred to me that people would use these to try to dig up artifacts. In this case, those archaeologists had a clear idea of the power of their maps. They were useful for them as a tool but in the wrong hands, could cause a lot of damage.
I’ve even thought of the danger of my Map My Run running app. Here, I’m outlining exactly where I run, alone. In a recent layered map of my Achilles tendinitis recovery runs, I intentionally dropped off the streets and left only the lines. It feels a little paranoid but I’ve listened to too many true crime stories and know of too many women runners being attacked seemingly out of nowhere.
The Maps I Make of Me
Here is where I have complete freedom. Fortunately (I think), I have the habit of being blatantly candid about my thoughts, idiosyncrasies, anxiety, self-doubt: you name it. When I make maps of those “places” previously mentioned that lie internally, I can get as detailed as I want. But here’s the thing: it’s nearly impossible to do so. As frequently as I draw maps, I still find something missing when I’m trying to illustrate it all. This has even prompted me to make layered maps like my Pandemic Flow Chart and Oregon Coast, 1791 to Now. There’s just not enough space on a two-dimensional plane to include it all. That’s why working in augmented reality can be amazing. It allows me to layer up, include tons of detail and make it so the viewer can even WALK THROUGH the map, like I did with What Grows Here – Scottsdale. I imagine it might be a bit terrifying for me to make an AR map of my mind that people had to walk through. I promise not to subject you to that.
So, Anyway, Why DO We Make Maps?
The answer to this question could very well be a book (hey…that gives me an idea). But for now I would say that on a personal level, I make maps to understand myself and my world better. I know that I enjoy LOOKING at maps because I always find something interesting I didn’t know about. Looking at old maps, I learn how people have perceived our world before me. It reminds me that every map we make is our perception at that time. As time moves, so does everything we perceive within it. By making maps, we strive to understand the constantly shifting reality and time we live in.
