
In the fall of 2008, I took an interactive media class at Washington State University Vancouver. One of the projects for that class was to go on a walk called a drift. While we were given some suggestions for the drift style, ultimately, it was up to us to decided what constraints to place on ourselves. During the drift, we were instructed to take photographs and write notes to document our experience.
Beginning at 25th and Main Street, I travel to the next intersection and choose a different direction to travel. Possible directions are backward, forward, left, and right. When I feel like I have gone far enough, I choose the most direct path back to the starting point.


Leaving Main Street, I hear the sound of running water. I see a sign to a park and want to go in, but I am not allowed. I have just turned right and must save the park for another day.

The sign to the park is univiting, anyway. Too much negativity for one sign.

I find the source of the running water. Water falls into a pool covered with foam that reminds me of a bubble bath. It has a distict smell that I cannot describe.

Down the street from the park, I notice a tall brick building.

I stare at it for a moment and think it looks like retirement housing. I ask someone leaving the building, and they confirm my suspicion. What is it about retirement housing that makes them all look the same?

As I continue down the street, I notice that all of the houses are old and have large porches and well-kept lawns. Many of the houses have American Flags in the front yards.

As I walk through the neighborhood, I notice that a lot of things are done for decoration and most of the houses have shrubs.
As I walk down the street, I notice that it smells like October. The air is crisp and smells of flowers and dead leaves.

All of the houses seem to fit together except one. This house seems to want to stand out. The house is dwarfed by trees that don't belong here, yet seem to be thriving.
There is no street sign at the intersection to tell me where I am. I decide to continue on Daniels Street.


Plants hang over the sidewalk. Instead of growing straight up, they grow sideways.

I see an unusual tree. It's branches reach out with leaves that remind me of wings.


As I walk down Washington Street, I notice that these houses all have fences. It reminds me of the saying, "good fences make good neighbors."
I notice that I am heading away from the quiet residential neighborhood and into a noisy area with businesses.
Despite the traffic noise, I can hear the sound of the crosswalk sign beeping and dead leaves blowing across the pavement.

As I cross the street, I notice a small shopping center. It reminds me of the Time-Based Art festival where I heard Mike Daisey talking about Wal-Mart taking over his hometown.

I see a car inside a building and think it looks odd. Of course, I do not find anything strange about a car being in a garage.

At first it seems quieter, but soon the peace is broken by a noisy bus.
While there are still a lot of businesses around, it continues to seem quieter here. At the end of the block, I decide it is time to turn back. I determine that the most direct route back is to go three blocks north and one block west, followed by four blocks north and one block west.

Before I get very far, a squirrel darts across my path. I have seen several of them during my walk, but this is the first one I am able to capture.

As I reach the next intersection, I notice an empty lot. This is the first one I have seen. Elsewhere, the houses are crammed together. I suppose this space will be filled someday, as well.

Walking along Broadway, I notice a sign stuck in a tree. It seems as if the tree is trying to consume the sign.

Further down the street, I notice that most of the houses have been converted into businesses. It seems wrong to me.
I return to my car. It is not until I am mapping out the trip on Google that I notice the unintentional pattern to my travels. In most cases, I have gone two blocks in one direction before turning in another.