As a child, I remember going on long car rides on weekends. I have fond memories watching the scenery go outside the passenger window. This joy of exploring with a car continued as I began to drive, taking up the weekend jaunt on my own, exploring roads never traveled before, with no apparent destination in mind. This contrast of moving through space with freedom now confined to the chronic route of the daily commute is a part of my practice.
The cartographic trace refers to the invisible line of autobiographical data revealing my daily journey however small, over a surface, between buildings, to work, errands, day trips, or longer excursions, the everyday as art. The question I seek to answer through memory, intuition, and digital recording is: how can I manifest the ordinary act of the cartographic trace into the beautiful.