Drift

Going away or should i say Drifting to a Greec Island - one of my deepest dreams, a sec before doing that, i'll post here, some findings i made during the last year, regarding mapping, Psychogeography and stories and Drifting...

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In the spirit of Walter Benjamin, (who advised travelers to foreign cities to learn to lose their ways), drifting, in this issue of rhizomes, becomes something akin to a non-logocentric way of mapping and understanding the world.

Drifters resist traditional cartography’s abstractions and tidy analogies, inventing tactics for appreciating places as something more than literal spaces or pieces of real estate.

Go on reading

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Greek Archipelago, circa 1610(Repro ID: F1946 © National Maritime Museum, London)

map via National Maritime Museum @

Island hopping is a term that has several different definitions as it is applied in various fields. Generally, the term refers to the means of crossing an ocean by a series of shorter journeys between islands, as opposed to a single journey directly across the ocean to the destination.

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an island hopping illustrated blog. via coudal

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“Carneteurs”, in other words authors of travel diaries, cannot exist without drawings, notes, photographs, tickets and small curiosities. Unequivocally indefinable (being part artists, illustrators, cartoonists as well as writers, poets and reporters), they have selected this unusual way to describe their expeditions.

Each year, enthusiasts get together at Clermont-Ferrand for a festival dedicated to this unusual form of “art”.

the illustration above is taken from the lovely "road book" on-line project (by 3 french guys-Piero-paintings, Arno-playing the guitar, Benji-on the paino). via bldgblog

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THE ADVENTURE OF A POET by Italo Calvino

"THE LITTLE island had a high, rocky shoreline. On it grew the thick, low scrub, the vegetation that survives by the sea. Gulls flew in the sky. It was a small island near the coast, deserted, uncultivated: in half an hour you could circle it in a rowboat, or in a rubber dinghy like the one the approaching couple had, the man calmly paddling, the woman stretched out, taking the sun. As they came nearer, the man listened intently. "What do you hear?" she asked. "Silence," he said. "Islands have a silence you can hear." In fact, every silence consists of the network of minuscule sounds that enfolds it: the silence of the island was distinct from that of the calm sea surrounding it because it was pervaded by a vegetable rustling, the calls of birds, or a sudden whirr of wings. Down below the rock, the water, without a ripple these days, was a sharp, limpid blue, penetrated to its depths by the sun's rays. In the cliff faces the mouths of grottoes opened, and the couple in the rubber boat were going lazily to explore them." go on reading

for more calvino treasures

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This is a diary for the travel, which starts from Edo in a rainy day in 1769, to Tohoku district. (Kano Collection)

Travels to Michinoku. Ed. Senshun Transcribed by Ryoboku. Illustration by Kazumasa Sakaguchi. Transcribed in 1796 (colored).