I love going out of my way, beyond what I know, and finding
my way back a few extra miles, by another trail, with a compass that argues
with the map…nights alone in motels in remote western towns where I know no one
and no one I know knows where I am, nights with strange paintings and floral
spreads and cable television that furnish a reprieve from my own biography,
when in Benjamin’s terms, I have lost myself though I know where I am. Moments
when I say to myself as feet or car clear a crest or round a bend, I have never
seen this place before. Times when some architectural detail on vista that has
escaped me these many years says to me that I never did know where I was, even
when I was home.
Rebecca Solnit
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