Maps abound!

The best way I can think of to describe the map-sharing that occurred in class is as ladder-interactions. When makers interact, do their ladders necessarily follow? I think so. When I'm exposed to another's take on mapping, even if its on a different poem, I shift to some degree (in some instances, more than others, due to case similarity, or if one ladder presents wider rungs or a plusher handrail :)) into another system of thought, another approach, before coming back to my mind; I am then not only able to, but must [updated insert - an instance of seduction: the ladders want to interact!] view my own work in a more holistic, for lack of a better word, light (from multiple angles; or maybe it is that my own work develops more facets, like a cut diamond, and I, the jeweler--the more faces, the more chances for illumination! [insert - and indeed, a shinier diamond presents a more seductive sight]).

The most striking map to me was a physical map of some city (ann arbor, maybe?) wrapped around a plate. This particular maker worked off of "The Lightning is a Yellow Fork." The idea of a plate and the fork as an eating utensil immediately comes to mind (yes, that makes sense), but more interestingly, this interaction raises the perspective of the plate as a medium for something other than eating food. The plate is a receptacle for forking, for travel; with the map wrapped around it, one's attention is diverted not to what it contains (as is usually the case when it holds food) but to its surface; it's like the skin of the receptacle has been translated into one language that can interact with other makers and systems. What does a plate say? Well, one of those things could be this map! I have no idea whether these thoughts align in any way with what the original maker had in mind, but this branching, this taking my own journey down that road map on her plate, is further evidence of ladders interacting with one (thought certainly more than one) another.