Hacking the map

The act of counter-mapping inevitably takes up the question of what constitutes ‘truth’, and in doing so, points to the power dynamics at play in epistemological regimes, particularly in relation to space and architecture. Hacking The Map engages with this year’s theme of 'Fake it! Fake them! Fake you! Fake us!' through the production of counter-mapping tools that allow for alterior modes of knowledge production to be spatialized atop a site of highly contested objectivity: the map.

Hover/touch & hold the emphesized words.

>
Great bird alkaline

When looking at a shaded relief of the elevations of a mountain range, (one / you / i) dont know by shape, i start to see it as a negative. Mountains become valleys and canyons. How does it come that the frottage of a small piece of ground can look like the digital elevation model of land masses as seen under ideal conditions by an omnipotent observer in space. Writing this I notice that I again am not at a specific location. Yet i often wonder/wander off to places in my head. I guess you call them ideas. Do I carry these ideas or are they carrying me? Is a home that is just in your head, not better than no home at all. And "real" homes often disappoint. One remembers them in a certain way, but upon return finds them changes. That is disempowering.

I am a cat, I now only show my head part, because my head represent my mental state of mind the most. There are many yellow islands on my sheet of paper, they are floating, here and there. In blobs of yellowness . They are approximately the same size, because 1 prefer uniformity so I imagined all of my islands un uniform sizes. My head us similar size to the islands the island is in a blob. I am created by lines. I like how my head is projected onto the island, our overlap seem to waver, my ears point this way or that way. I like how things are proportioned and placed.

This is a frottage of a "Schachtelhalm". I remember my dad telling me about it. It's a living fossile. When working in the coalmines as part of forced labour he head to do in the ČSSR, he would come across petrified versions of it, which were huge. Tens of meters long massive logs with a reptile like skin. The huge ancestors of this plant, resp. their remains make up the majority of stone coal. My dad also used it for making tea. Apparently it is good for the urin and the prostate. Always when i see it, i think of my dad and of times millions of years ago.

Same same but different. Are we a community? Do we belong to each other? How do we belong to each other? Is it a simitair shape that makes us belonging? It looks like we share the same head. Or is it a head at all? What other bodily part could it be? Made out of leaves? Some of us have cat's ears. At least it looks like it. We share same characteristics, but we are different, we are individuals that belong to each other.

Cruising is also sailing against the wind and this is rubbing against the grain turning, turning, bringing the screens closer to each other much closer.

I like prints and I have a neighbour who make clothes herself when she lived in London in African quarter she bough African print textiles and one day I saw her in China she made an apron out of the fabric.