I step out of my apartment, no car keys in hand. I watch the 11:49 MTS route 44 bus drone loudly away as I continue to stand at the top of my stairs, having just locked my door behind me. Rather than sit and wait for another to come down Linda Vista in thirty minutes, I head out on my journey, depending on my feet to take on travel. I walk along the sidewalk with many others coming in and out of the line of stores parallel to the main road. The speed of the cars whipping up the flaps of my jacket and strands of my hair as I make room for other passerbys, and notice a consignment and massage store tucked behind my regular tasting room, and was shocked I’d never seen them before. Across the street I go, my footsteps matching the beep beep beep …show more content…
First, had I been driving, as a usually do through this particular space, I wouldn’t have taken notice to what establishments lay tucked behind a place of my regular visitation; the consignment and the massage stores. This example reminded me of DeCerteau’s explanation of how time spent on in the car and on the road can easily forget space, that it passes daily, allowing it to become a “blind spot” (95). Sticking to the skinny sidewalk, I was allowed to look beyond my own “functionalist organization” (DeCerteau, 95) of daily record of time and schedule to be exposed to the businesses that otherwise were made invisible as a roaming pedestrian. Again, the idea of myself roaming, having missed my bus, though unaffected by a timetable to necessarily keep, reminded me of DeCerteau and his idea of the walker without a certain place to be accounted to (103). In not having a proper place to which I would go and have a proper purpose, I reorient my experience even just a few minutes from my own doorstep. My focus remains entirely on the personal map to my destination, the rules of the road in which I am driving, and the Presidio Place (the line of shops) becomes unseen in the practice of …show more content…
Our paths, and the ‘text’ we create separately, cross and mesh to create a richer story, otherwise unavailable to those who travel within the “privatized cell” of the car (Avila, 195). In a car, the space obviously cuts down on social interaction, and ceases the communication that public transportation is able to provide. Outside of the exclusivity that the individual participates in driving a private vehicle, the traditional transit systems force interaction of all travelers involved. While Tim Ingold is not in the class syllabus, I find that his essays on movement, “Being Alive” (2011) fits perfectly into this understanding of space and mobility that I encountered with the resident of Ocean Beach. Like me, this man created a trail of his own making and where we met, our trails formed a “knot” in which we and others collectively made in wait for the bus route to Ocean Beach (Ingold, 148). This agrees with DeCerteau’s argument, delineating travel not as “place-bound, but place binding” (Ingold, 148). In the wait, my fellow travelers and I composed a text, a story in which was accumulated in a certain place while moving around the city in travel (DeCerteau,
In this passage “The Street” by Ann Petry, Lutie Johnson’s relationship with her urban setting is expressed using figurative language. Lutie allows us to walk with her and experience one cold November night near the streets of seventh and eighth avenue. The relationship between Lutie Johnson and the urban setting is established using personification, imagery, and characterization.
Of the lessons of this course, the distinction made between story and situation will be the most important legacy in my writing. I learned a great travel essay cannot be merely its situation: its place, time, and action. It requires a story, the reader’s internal “journey of discovery.” While the importance of establishing home, of balancing summary and scene, and other lessons impacted my writing, this assertion at least in my estimation the core argument of the course.
The arrival to Manhattan was like an entry to a whole new world: from the sea, its breezes, color, and landscapes, to the heart of the city beating louder than ever at the Whitehall Terminal. I could smell New York’s bagels in Battery Park with a mixture of the most relaxing scents: the coffee people were holding while walking down the streets, the old walls of Castle Clinton ...
Out of the 12 months of the year, students basically only have about two months to have fun and not worry about school. As a teenager, you do things without predicting the outcome. We tend to not always listen to our parents and sometimes end up in terrible situations.
...lves the confirmation of the boundaries of the social world through the sorting of things into good and bad categories. They enter the unconscious through the process of socialisation.’ Then, “the articulation of space and its conception is a reminder that time boundaries are inextricably connected to exclusionary practises which are defined in refusing to adhere to the separation of black experience.”
In conclusion, this essay has outlined an example range of ‘making and remaking’ on City Road in relation to ‘connections and disconnections’. It outlined how differences and inequalities are produced, how a person’s identity is attributed to them by other people and it is not always chosen and finally, the relationship between; society, making and remaking and connection and disconnection.
The ways in which people are placed within “time space compression” as highly complicated and extremely varied. For instance, in the book Nickel and Dimed, Barbara said, “ Something is wrong, very wrong, when a single person in good health, a person who in addition possesses a working car, can barely support herself by the sweat of her brow. You do not need a degree in economics to see that wages are too low and rents too high”(127). Barbara has a car so that she can drive to her workplace and save the time from waiting public transportation, and she also can go to different cities whenever she is free. Therefore, she has more control of her mobility. The social relations would change when she went to another city. Different social groups have distinct relationships to this anyway differentiated mobility: some people are more in charge of it than others, like Barbara; some initiate flows and movement, others do not; some are more more on the receiving-end of it than others. Instead of thinking of places as areas with boundaries around, they can be imaged as articulated moments in networks of social relations and understandings, but where a large proportion of those relations, experiences and understandings are structed ona far larger scale than what we happen to define for that moment as the place itself, whether that be a street, or a region or even a continent. We can see that from her different work experiences in different places. And this in turn allows a sense of place which is extroverted, which includes a consciousness of its links with the wider world, which integrates ina apositive way the global and the
Ray Bradbury in his story “The Pedestrian” highlights isolation, technology occupation, and no crime in the city; ultimately, becoming an insipid world. Isolation is a key component in this short story because it shapes how society is. For instance, when Mr. Mead, the main character, takes a walk, he would pass by “The tombs, ill-lit by television light, where people sat like the dead, the gray or multicolored lights touching their faces, but never really touching them” (Bradbury 1). This shows that even at eight o’clock pm, people are still inside and connected well into their television, then they are to each other. Secondly, technology occupation also comes into this ongoing problem. For example, a cop car stops Mr. Mead he reflects back
...as I began to walk in the water every imperfection on my body burned as the salt cleansed my skin. Knee high in the Dead Sea and my body even then began to feel weightless- the water carried me. 3 feet deep and no matter how much I tried to touch the bottom, I couldn’t. No one was splashing because if the salt got in your eyes it would be an unbearable burning feeling. For the first time all senior year I felt like I wasn’t in control. I let the water carry me. There wasn’t fear, I didn’t worry about getting carried out to far, nothing lived in the water so no matter how far I went, nothing could pull me under. For the first time all year I wasn’t worried about graduation, finals, or even college. It took me dipping my toes into something big and scary to finally feel relaxed and at peace with myself.
Colson Whitehead explores this grand and complex city in his collection of essays The Colossus of New York. Whitehead writes about essential elements to New York life. His essays depict the city limits and everyday moments such as the morning and the subway, where “it is hard to escape the suspicion that your train just left... and if you had acted differently everything would be better” (“Subway” 49). Other essays are about more once in a while moments such as going to Central Park or the Port Authority. These divisions are subjective to each person. Some people come to New York and “after the long ride and the tiny brutalities... they enter the Port Authority,” but for others the Port Authority is a stop in their daily commute (“The Port Authority” 22).Nonetheless, each moment is a part of everyone’s life at some point. Many people live these moments together, experiencing similar situations. We have all been in the middle of that “where ...
Mastery of the material an author writes about is not merely enough to get one’s point across, yet Butor uses his mastery of how to travel wherever you are in life and, in addition, uses language that presents the picture in such a manner that one does not have to delve deep into the meaning behind the words to retain the full idea portrayed in them. The higher arching purpose to his work, though, turns out to be the overall connection of ties between the book and travel ultimately depends on the book’s “literariness” to determine what journey one might have while reading (83). All in all, the tone of voice and writing style that Butor uses in this piece are second to none in their ability to influence a reader of following his procedure of travel transformation, and a rhetorical analysis essay on his work only reassured the authenticity of the section about how Butor chose to entertain the reader as the main purpose behind his essay. His attitude toward the audience was strong enough to elicit advice that originated straight from the heart, and in doing that, he empowered readers with the ability to look at books and reading differently for the rest of their
...ace we carry. In fact, he asserts that Descartes dichotomy (between mental (res cogitans) and material space (res extensa) (Lefebvre 39) these ways of knowing space involves and propagates a fundamental misunderstanding of the ways in which space structures our lives. To apprehend, physical, mental and social elements as one, he introduces his conceptual triad - spatial practice (perceived), representation of space (conceived) and representational spaces (lived), in order to reconfigure the ways in which representation functions in our experience of space. In Lefebvre’s system, representation pervades all spatial experience. The physical, mental and social now have the required setup to be conceptualised in a unifying meta-theory. Lefebvre does this by, “bringing the various kinds of space and the modalities of their genesis together with one theory” (Lefebvre 16).
Setting: “I move onto the sidewalk and Curt and I stand there watching our cab disappear into the sea of cars making their way up and down Houston.
The Street, is a novel, by Ann Petry, that tells a story about Lutie Johnson’s relationship to the urban setting. Petry conveys Johnson’s relationship to the urban setting through the use of imagery, personification and selection of detail. These literary devices help not only help give a better way to explain what Johnson is going through, but lets the readers have a better way of understanding it.
The shrill cries of my alarm echo across vermilion painted walls, stirring my consciousness into an aware state. It is precisely eight o’clock on a warm summer Monday; the distant cries of mockingbirds can be heard above the soft whirring of cars passing our genteel residential street. My ears scan the house; it is quiet – barely a sound other than the tinkling of tags as our pets navigate the living room. The still morning air brought realization, with no children running around Mother must have already left for work. Never leaving my lax position I stretch and sigh, it is nice to not have to baby-sit my sister’s kids – my nieces and nephew – but I do miss the mornings where my mother would still kiss me goodbye.