The first wall shows how my daily life is seperate from the complex systems that surround me and support me and have yet to laugh as they engulf me.

I could not ever expect myself to finish this map to its entirety and so instead of etching an incomplete and permanent layer, I decided not to include my single sourced knowledge about how parcels in Clatsop are being consolidated by the Oregon Department of Forestry, about the 400 hundred acres on Sandy river being transferred to Metro and some back to the Diack family, about Forest Park’s connectivity plan for migrations from the coast to the gorge, about Hanford’s crumbling caves and mysterious plumes. In this case, now multiple iterations of Portland can be defined. I invite the participant to take part in the print itself and record their thoughts inside plenty of empty books.

There is a sad meaning in having a map that is unfinished on my work desk with the meadows hidden underneath and an empty crate, but it is a seat I can turn into a basket.