I Went for a Drive

I remember walking into the Pantheon for the first time. I approached the huge open doors early in the morning. There were few tourists and I was alone. I craned my neck as I passed those doors, looking up at the oculus, and before I could really process anything I gasped.

One year later, I would sit down to write a thesis (as one does). It started with a story of an infinite library, and before I knew it I was mounting cameras on my windshield, taking 24 hour drives, and writing about mathematical proofs. I would follow and document whatever moved me. Almost nothing of what I wrote could fit neatly into one category, and I’ve spent more hours thinking about what this all means than actually working.

I still don’t quite have an answer, but what is obvious to me is that I’m chasing that gasp. What’s even more obvious is that I’m not finding it in architecture—I’m finding it in books, in stories, in abstract concepts, and on the road. I’m preoccupied with where the mind goes, and how the mind perceives. I’m not taking one photo—I’m taking 4000 and stacking them. I’m not filming in real-time—I’m speeding time up or slowing it to a crawl. What I’m looking at is incidental to how I’m looking. And how I’m looking is as that naive student walking through the doors of the Pantheon and being moved beyond comprehension.


Marco Chimienti
04.03.17