ORIGIN:
Portland,
Oregon, is a city established the same year Henry David Thoreau
built his cabin by Walden Pond. Out the back door of my first
apartment
in Portland was Forest Park,
the largest urban forest in the country.
Near the end of the 19th Century, when the tract was being
logged for building materials and fuel, a Unitarian minister
named Thomas Lamb Eliot had a vision that preserving this
land was important
to the city's future. Through his prompting,
in 1899 the newly-formed Municipal Park Commission invited John
Charles
Olmstead, and his
brother, Frederick Law Olmstead, of Brookline, MA, to
study the area for possible preservation. In their
1903 report they concluded that
unless something was done to save these woods they would "become
as rare about Portland as they now are about Boston." (Portland
was named with the flip of a coin on whose other side was
Boston.) Forty-eight years later, the first forty-two hundred
acres were
formally dedicated as Forest Park.
REVISION:
As I read
these pages again seven years after I wrote them,
I see this project as a philosophical journal that draws its
spirit from Forest Park's now over
5,000
acres
and 40
miles of trails. It also continues
my development of invaginations that split and extend the authoritative
voice by inserting fragments of others.
Originally,
on each page mouseovers opened reference boxes on layers. I've
eliminated the layers, which on different size monitors floated
into spaces where they interfered with the text, and collected
the references on single pages, with a link to them at the bottom
of the each text.
ENTERING:
Some
years ago, psychologist James Hillman was a guest professor
at the University of New Mexico. He began by saying, "Philosophy
is about keeping the conversation going." To which the Portuguese
writer, Fernando Pessoa, might have added, "I have no philosophy,
I have senses," and
the Japanese Zen Master, Soen Nakagawa, might have said:
Touching
one another
each becomes
a pebble of the world...