Previously, I wrote this:

Think Multicursally. Act Unicursally.

Okay kids, this is where it gets complicated and will require a lot of attention. What does that mean?

There are some landmarks I can see clearly. The Library is knowledge. The books on my shelf such as anything by Borges, Foundation, Dark Matter, Scripture, the endless collecting of ideas and connections. I don’t simply read things, I keep discovering tunnels between them.

The rabbit is curiosity and that’s probably my most persistent symbol. Something catches my attention and off I go chasing it. A series of numbers tiled that don’t belong on a bridge. A strange photograph. A survey marker. A reference in a television show. One thing opens a path, which opens another path.

The camera is Ariadne’s thread. I’ve used digital photography for 25 years through radically different versions of myself. Cameras changed. Places changed. Relationships changed. Technology changed. Yet I kept making photographs. Looking backward and those images literally form a thread through the labyrinth. They prove where I’ve been even when I couldn’t see the larger pattern while I was living it.

Exploration is my multicursal maze. My fascination with wandering, overlooked places, wayfinding, markers, murals, neon, strange objects and the infraordinary all point toward the same instinct: there is more here than the obvious route is showing me.

And then there’s Theseus’s ship: myself.

The 14-year-old me isn’t the same man sitting there today. Neither is the photographer who picked up his first digital camera in 2001. Nor the person I was ten years ago. Jobs, relationships, homes, ambitions, technologies, beliefs and priorities have been replaced plank by plank. Yet I’ve experienced all of them as Chris.

That’s where Dark Matter fits my map. All those roads not taken exist in imagination: the relationships I stayed in, and the ones I left behind. The city you never left, the ones I did leave and the career I chose , the project I actually finished, the photograph I didn’t take. I can drive myself insane contemplating those multicursal branches.

But my map contains something I desperately need to learn: possibility isn’t the same thing as purpose. Infinite doors don’t tell you which one matters.

Hari Seldon gives us the final piece.

Maybe my map isn’t supposed to tell me where I’ll end up.

Seldon’s map doesn’t really describe individual footsteps either. It describes tendencies across enormous stretches of time. Zoom far enough out on your own life and I think a similar pattern becomes visible.

I repeatedly explore → notice → document → connect → preserve → share.

Not necessarily in that order, and certainly not neatly. But look at what keeps surviving every reconstruction of Theseus’ ship:

I explore because something might be hidden.

I photograph because something might disappear.

I read because somebody else may have found another piece.

I write because I want to leave a record of what I discovered.

And I preserve things because forgetting bothers the hell out of me.

That last one may explain why tonight’s Library imagery hit me so hard. The Library of Babel. Trantor’s Library. The robots hiding there. The Second Foundation hiding there. My own photographic archive. My own library. Twenty-six years of writing. Books and notes and images.

Different manifestations of the same idea:

The Library is where I keep what time would erase.

So if someone asked me to draw myself a map, I wouldn’t draw a straight (unicursal) road.

I’d draw a labyrinth (multicursal). At its entrance I’d put a rabbit.

Through the maze I’d run Ariadne’s thread, except mine would look suspiciously like a strip of film negatives and scattered throughout would be libraries, breadcrumbs, pebbles, utility markings, murals, neon, photographs, books, strange markers and doors I haven’t opened yet. And at the center, I wouldn’t put anything there.

Because I think one assumption I’ve carried for a long time deserves challenging: that all this exploration is eventually supposed to lead me to an answer.

Maybe there isn’t a center. Maybe the shape made by my wandering is the map.

INTERMISSION

“If you don’t know where you want to go, then it doesn’t matter which path you take.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Right, Intermission is over. I was losing my words down different paths, which happens frequently. Fortunately I am learning to place waymarkers as guides. The following references is from myself while navigating various paths of consciousness and tying them all together. Stick with me:

The Labyrinthal Thread

Yes, I made up that word.

Demerzel → Foundation: A robot secretly influencing humanity’s future.

Foundation → Prime Radiant: Mathematics predicts possible futures.

Prime Radiant → Labyrinth: The future resembles a network of possible paths.

Labyrinth → Unicursal / Multicursal: One continuous path versus many branching choices.

Multicursal → Daedalus: The legendary architect of the Cretan labyrinth.

Daedalus → Theseus: The hero enters the labyrinth Daedalus designed.

Theseus → Minotaur: The creature awaiting him inside.

Ariadne’s Thread: A means of navigating uncertainty and finding a way through.

Minotaur → Asterion: Another name for the creature.

Asterion → Borges: Borges retells the creature’s experience in The House of Asterion.

Asterion → Another robot that is connected to Asimov’s Foundation series

Asterion → From Borge’s House of Asterion. A retelling from the minotaur’s perspective

Borges → The Garden of Forking Paths: The labyrinth becomes a metaphor for branching time.

Forking Paths → The Library of Babel: Infinite possibilities become an immense library of possible books.

Library of Babel → The Aleph: From an overwhelming collection to a single point containing everything.

The Aleph → Infinite Possibilities: Imagining realities beyond our ordinary perspective.

Infinite Possibilities → Dark Matter: Different decisions produce alternate versions of a life.

Dark Matter → Ship of Theseus: What makes someone the same person despite change?

Ship of Theseus → Identity: Continuity becomes a philosophical puzzle.

Identity → Choice: Our decisions help shape who we become.

Choice → Robert Frost: A poet examines the significance of choosing a road.

Robert Frost → The Road Not Taken: Two diverging paths and the stories we tell afterward.

The Road Not Taken → Dante: From choosing a road to discovering you’ve lost your way.

Dante → The Divine Comedy: A journey through unfamiliar realms toward understanding.

The Divine Comedy → Dark Wood: Dante begins lost, without a clear route.

Dark Wood → Ariadne’s Thread: A means of navigating uncertainty and finding a way through.

Ariadne’s Thread → Wayfinding: Keeping track of where you’ve been.

Wayfinding → Rabbits: Following clues through seemingly unrelated places and events.

Rabbits → Patterns & Coincidences: Recurring details invite investigation.

Patterns & Coincidences → Rabbit Holes: One discovery suggests another.

White Rabbit Alice in Wonderland → curiouser and curiouser

Rabbit Holes → Hares & Hounds: Curiosity becomes a pursuit.

Hares & Hounds → Hash House Harriers: My firsthand, real-world trail experience following deliberately marked trails. “On On!” = right path “On Back!” = wrong path

Hash House Harriers → Trail Markers: Flour, chalk and symbols indicate possible routes.

Trail Markers → False Trails: Not every apparent route leads forward.

False Trails → Hansel & Gretel: Another story about navigating a dangerous environment using markers.

Hansel & Gretel → Breadcrumbs: A trail intended to guide the children home.

Breadcrumbs → Pebbles: More durable markers that survive where breadcrumbs fail were eaten by birds

Pebbles → Painted Rocks: Physical markers become creative objects others can discover.

Painted Rocks → Geocaching: Hidden objects turn exploration into a participatory game.

Geocaching → Multicaches: Multiple locations form a connected sequence of discoveries.

Multicaches → Multicursal GPS Waypoints: Coordinates guide participants between locations.

GPS Waypoints → Ground Control Points: Surveying introduces another kind of precisely located physical marker.

Ground Control Points → Houston Fieldwork: My discoveries around ongoing bridge and highway construction.

Houston Fieldwork → Rego: Recording discoveries on a personal map.

Rego → Mapping Discoveries: Individual encounters become a visible geographic collection.

Mapping Discoveries → Photography: Images preserve what you encountered at each location.

Photography → Documentation: Observations become durable records.

Documentation → Denbow Decimal System: My accumulated material and organizational structure.

Denbow Decimal System → Personal Archives: Decades of writing, photography and discoveries become searchable.

Personal Archives → Hounds Searching for Rabbits: Deliberate searches reveal recurring themes and unexpected connections.

Hounds Searching for Rabbits → Explore More: My methods become potential activities for others to experience.

Explore More → Solvitur Ambulando: Understanding develops through walking and firsthand investigation.

Solvitur Ambulando → Think Multicursally. Act Unicursally.: Remain open to possibilities while deliberately following one course.

Think Multicursally. Act Unicursally.

Running through the entire sequence is my other guiding principle:

A pebble records an encounter. A collection of pebbles can reveal a path.

The thread comes full circle albeit a multicursal path littered with rabbits who will lead me down a false trail or help me discover the right paths.

Patterns In The Path

It amazes me that throughout the years, and without subconciously doing so, I have acquired all of these experiences and knowledge that are connected. I have a thought, I grab a book to validate it. Then I recall another, similar reference from another book. Which leads me down to another source path. All of the above references are from my library or my personal experiences. Just like Ariadne’s thread guiding Theseus along the labyrinth, similar to Hansel and Gretel using breadcrumbs at first, and then pebbles to find their way back. Similar to me yelling “ON Back!” because we chased a sneaky hare down a false trail, similar to anyone who is lost and uttering “XYZZY” and immediately a path opens up to the right trail.

I first learned about the phrase “frequency bias” interestingly enough, from the book called Rabbits. The real world game play that is on foot allows you to advance by seeing patterns and paying attention to details and understanding why you keep seeing the same things over and by coincidence(?) or not.

Every hobby and intellectual pursuit leads me all down this mental labyrinth. Which leads you and I back to the one of the original thoughts in the labyrinth known as my website.

PS: I haven’t even begun to unpack how footnotes and marginalia themselves are multicursal paths that will beautifully and annoyingly cause you to stray off the path, add waymarking posts to bring you back to the story and cause you to come full circle again.