"We don't take walks we make walks. The maps of our walking do not exist until we draw them into the ground with our footsteps. Nor can they- or any image or object- retell the walks we make. Their every telling is a lie, an adjustment of the details to fit a format or system. They are mere translations. Like remembering, translation reconstructs brand new all that it touches, forces it to fit within the limits of another form. This is not a complicated phenomenon. It occurs as easy as 123.
We don't take walks, walks take us. To intimacy and to breadth. The maps we make are lies, and like all good lies, they are useful. They allow us to reshape the everyday moment and to see. They challenge us to decide which pretty aspects of a walk we will attend to when a walk is taken days or oceans apart. They give us the translatable record, and allow us to produce that record through an act as accidental as walking. Easy as 123."
-Nestor Armando Gil 2023