We Were Walking When...

We Were Walking When…

More than a year ago, four new friends set out on a journey. It was a walk; nothing more, nothing less. This particular walk, between these particular companions, began in Offenbach, Germany, an industrial suburb east of Frankfurt, and lasted for three days, eventually ending in Worms, some 79 kilometers away. Along the way, we ate, drank and wrote. We brought very little with us on purpose; not even an adequate map. In the end, we created and exchanged a series of documentations and reflections. Our intentions were never calculated, nor our reasons pre-determined.

It was a walk. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was only post-walk, upon reflection when the possible meanings began to emerge. For me, I viewed the walk as an act of rebellion; a revolt. It was to say, ‘forget it, I’m done,’ and in fact this particular march, more than anything else, would in fact become the catalyst that would push me through a later exit strategy from my then present circumstances. But collectively, the meanings that emerged from the sojourn would supersede personal positions and become far greater than any would have been capable of predicting. It was about camaraderie. It was about adventure. It was about spontaneity. It was about mobility. It was about action. It was about slowing down. It was about conversation. It was about collective understanding. It was about finding calmness amongst the chaos. It was about proximity. And it was in fact, a little bit about protest. Moreover, it was about trusting the process and having faith that the process will (does, in fact) guide you somewhere if you just allow it to run it’s course.

In the many months that have passed since our walk through Germany, I have sauntered many-a-mile on my own: through a small coastal town in southern Maine in autumn, amid the hustle and bustle of Chicagoans in winter, then finally back to the beautifully grim aura of Detroit in summer, winter and soon spring. It was only a matter of time before I’d walk again, this time in Detroit, in my home, with a close friend, thick socks and a backpack full of sandwiches.

Silja and I departed early, walking from my apartment in Woodbridge to Avalon for fuel and caffeine. We decided then that we wanted to create a framework for our walk so we instilled a system that would require us to stop every nine minutes, turn 90 degrees to the outside and snap a photograph. We continued on in this manner as we parsed the quiet streets of the city, from Midtown to Eastern Market, the Market to the River, the River to Belle Isle, Belle Isle to Downtown, Downtown to Corktown, then finally back to Woodbridge some seven hours later.

Today, as I reflect on our walk, I am once again reminded that the real value in design exists in the process. It is here, where one discovers meaning. It is here where one, if they slow down long enough to identify it, enjoys new discovery, unwavering artistic integrity and if they’re really lucky, true innovation. The great writer Katherine Anne Porter spent thirty years in an almighty effort to write her novel Ship of Fools. Porter, who wrote intentionally slow, allowing time to help her determine the right pattern for her words and images, finished her novel at the age of 71. In a letter to her friend at the age of 70, Porter writes, “Forty years to write a short story darling! But then you know so well that anything you do is worth a lifetime or nothing.”

We Were Walking When We Made This was done in collaboration with Jason Dilworth, Nicole Lavelle and Jolanda Todt in central Germany, September, 2010.

The Detroit walk, which has yet to be named, was done with Silja Hillmann in Detroit, Michigan in February, 2012.