This post goes out especially to graduate students who are having a hard time with their writing, but also to undergraduates and other faculty members. Producing a thesis, or a dissertation, or a publishable article - or a decent term paper, for that matter - is tough, and one of the reasons for this is that many of us struggle a great deal to develop and maintain good work habits.
I'm a bit of a procrastinator by nature, it seems, but I've been fortunate enough to stumble across some resources that have helped me fight these tendencies and work more productively. I figured I'd share them here.
1. Professors as Writers, by Robert Boice. You don't have to be a professor to benefit from this book, which was probably the single most helpful resource I came across for getting me through the dissertation-writing process. The focus of this book is process, not product, and I can attest to the effectiveness of his tips for overcoming writer's block (which afflicted me severely in September 2005 and January 2006, if I remember correctly) and developing good writing habits.
I found Joan Bolker's Writing Your Dissertation in 15 Minutes a Day, which I received as a gift when I was writing my master's thesis, to be somewhat helpful, but it doesn't stand out in my memory as life-changing in the way that Boice's book does.
2. Getting Things Done, by David Allen. Believe the hype - this is an extremely useful book, even if you don't become a hard-core GTD fanatic. It's not about writing, of course, but there are some basic principles in the book that have helped me tremendously with my writing, as well as with productivity more generally.
For instance: you know how you sometimes get a great idea, and then you forget about it, and it's gone forever? One of Allen's basic concepts is to get "stuff" (of all kinds) out of your head and into some tangible form that you can get access to easily.
The tangible form that I've found the most useful has been the Hipster PDA, introduced to the world by Merlin Mann at 43 Folders (the title comes from Allen's book). Although I do use a conventional PDA daily (yes, I'm stuck in pre-smartphone technology here, but at least it's a good ol' Palm TX, which I've now had for almost 7 years), the simple act of carrying around note cards and jotting things down has revolutionized my life. Well, maybe that's a bit extreme - but the note cards have helped prevent me from "losing" numerous ideas that I would have otherwise lost.
3. Reassembling the Social, by Bruno Latour. OK, a bit of a non sequitur here, perhaps, but this was another one that helped me survive the dissertation process - and not just because I'm into actor-network theory and I shamelessly plug Latour's work at every opportunity. I think all graduate students would benefit from reading at least the chapter on "Writing Risky Accounts" (and indeed, he directs many of his comments in the book toward graduate students). It changed the way I thought about what I was doing, but it also provided considerable reassurance to me to read his description of the foibles, messiness, and inevitable incompleteness of social research (regardless of how we choose to define social).
I should note another book that I frequently recommend, if only because I find myself using the "situational map" so frequently to get my writing and thinking kick-started: Adele Clarke's Situational Analysis. Even if you don't buy the theoretical approach, I'd recommend trying out the practice of mapping. (I'm also eager to try out the software tool Free Mind, recommended by friend and fellow geographer Lee Hachadoorian on his new blog Free City.)
Part of what inspired this post is that the past three days have been some of the most productive I've had in recent months - maybe in recent years - and I feel compelled to give a little shout-out. I will direct this shout-out to the latest book I've found useful: Neil Fiore's The Now Habit. Again, it's not specifically about writing; it's about procrastination more generally. I also doubt that I'll ever use some of the tips in the book.
But I've been trying out his "Unschedule" idea this week, and so far it's working magnificently (knock on wood). The idea resonates nicely with Boice's approach, but the "Unschedule" adds a useful bit of structure to the "brief daily sessions" of writing that Boice advocates. I have to give credit once again to 43 Folders for introducing me to this book, even though Merlin Mann is skeptical of the "Unschedule" idea...
As a coda, I should also plug the book that did more than any other to help me learn to read academic books and articles: How to Read a Book, by Mortimer Adler and Charles Van Doren. None of my students have ever heard of it, it seems, but it's a classic, and it's worth every penny, and everyone should read it, right now.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Embarrassing Confession #1: Or, Why One Should Keep Up With Sports
One of the advantages of living in Milwaukee is that you are spittin' distance from Chicago: about an hour and a half during low traffic times. This means that it's easy, even with two small children, to say, "Hey! Let's go to Chicago this weekend!"
Last fall we found out about the ASTC Passport Program, which gives you free or discounted admission to science museums (mostly in North America, but a few in other parts of the world) if you become a member of any participating museum. And we found out that by joining Discovery World in Milwaukee, we'd qualify for free admission to science museums in Chicago, including the Field Museum and the Museum of Science and Industry. (There's a rule about having to live 90 miles away, as the crow flies; we're just barely beyond that, I think. Or maybe it's that the museums have to be 90 miles apart. Or maybe it's both. The rule is a little confusing, in my opinion.)
So, since the semester still hasn't started, we figured we'd take the boys down for a little museum-going. We settled on the Field, since our younger son Max is very much into dinosaurs, of which the Field has plenty. We spent the afternoon there on Saturday, but we didn't have quite enough time to take in the Gold exhibit, primarily of interest to our older son Baz, who speculated about whether it might be possible to steal some of it. So we decided to return on Sunday morning (we had booked a hotel room not far away).
This is where the title of this post comes in. Had we been following the NFL playoffs more closely (don't worry, we knew that the Packers had beaten the Falcons the night before; we even watched much of the Steelers-Ravens game on the big TV in our restaurant), we would have known that the Bears would be playing at Soldier Field on Sunday afternoon. (If you're unfamiliar with Chicago's lakefront, Soldier Field is across the street from the Field Museum - named after Marshall Field, not Soldier Field.) Needless to say, the traffic was kind of bad. And museum parking was nonexistent.
We cut our losses and drove down to the Museum of Science and Industry, where we didn't have a lot of time to explore (we'd been there a couple of times before anyway) - but there was at least enough time for Max and me to take in the indoor plumbing exhibit. (Why doesn't the museum site provide a link? It's one of the museum's less flashy exhibits, to be sure, but Max and I took great delight in watching the waste water go to the sewer. Granted, this is a time in Max's life in which toilets are of exceptionally great interest.)
So to sum up, my advice:
1) Don't go to the Field Museum when the Bears are playing at home.
2) The ASTC Passport program is a good deal, but don't forget that nothing is truly free in Chicago. It costs money just to get in the city, and that's just the beginning.
3) Make sure to check out the see-through toilet at the Museum of Science and Industry. You won't be disappointed.
Last fall we found out about the ASTC Passport Program, which gives you free or discounted admission to science museums (mostly in North America, but a few in other parts of the world) if you become a member of any participating museum. And we found out that by joining Discovery World in Milwaukee, we'd qualify for free admission to science museums in Chicago, including the Field Museum and the Museum of Science and Industry. (There's a rule about having to live 90 miles away, as the crow flies; we're just barely beyond that, I think. Or maybe it's that the museums have to be 90 miles apart. Or maybe it's both. The rule is a little confusing, in my opinion.)
So, since the semester still hasn't started, we figured we'd take the boys down for a little museum-going. We settled on the Field, since our younger son Max is very much into dinosaurs, of which the Field has plenty. We spent the afternoon there on Saturday, but we didn't have quite enough time to take in the Gold exhibit, primarily of interest to our older son Baz, who speculated about whether it might be possible to steal some of it. So we decided to return on Sunday morning (we had booked a hotel room not far away).
This is where the title of this post comes in. Had we been following the NFL playoffs more closely (don't worry, we knew that the Packers had beaten the Falcons the night before; we even watched much of the Steelers-Ravens game on the big TV in our restaurant), we would have known that the Bears would be playing at Soldier Field on Sunday afternoon. (If you're unfamiliar with Chicago's lakefront, Soldier Field is across the street from the Field Museum - named after Marshall Field, not Soldier Field.) Needless to say, the traffic was kind of bad. And museum parking was nonexistent.
We cut our losses and drove down to the Museum of Science and Industry, where we didn't have a lot of time to explore (we'd been there a couple of times before anyway) - but there was at least enough time for Max and me to take in the indoor plumbing exhibit. (Why doesn't the museum site provide a link? It's one of the museum's less flashy exhibits, to be sure, but Max and I took great delight in watching the waste water go to the sewer. Granted, this is a time in Max's life in which toilets are of exceptionally great interest.)
So to sum up, my advice:
1) Don't go to the Field Museum when the Bears are playing at home.
2) The ASTC Passport program is a good deal, but don't forget that nothing is truly free in Chicago. It costs money just to get in the city, and that's just the beginning.
3) Make sure to check out the see-through toilet at the Museum of Science and Industry. You won't be disappointed.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Prince of Networks
I think the Christmas gift that I was most excited about receiving this year (except perhaps these) was one of the books I'm currently reading: Graham Harman's Prince of Networks: Bruno Latour and Metaphysics. This is not only a fabulous, fascinating reading of Latour (a French science and technology studies scholar, but that doesn't quite do him justice: anthropologist? social theorist? philosopher? yes, but...), but I've also already laughed out loud several times, and I'm only on page 53.
To give you a quick taste (out of context, but it doesn't really matter):
In any case, I may occasionally post about this book, for you philosophical types out there. I'm eager to find out what happens! (i.e., to get to his critique. Back in 2006, I sat in on a great seminar with Bruce Braun at Minnesota, in which we read portions of Latour's Reassembling the Social and Harman's Tool-Being - alas, this book hadn't yet been published, so we could only speculate about what they would say to each other. Now there's a whole blog devoted to the actor-network/Heidegger encounter.)
To give you a quick taste (out of context, but it doesn't really matter):
"Let's imagine that, in our efforts to counter the dominance of Kant's Copernican Revolution in philosophy, we hire Karl Rove as a consultant. Since Kant has the reputation of a quiet, ascetic seeker after truth, Rove might begin by spreading rumors of moral turpitude. To simplify the tale, let's imagine that the rumors are actually true. In a surprising discovery, Rove's research team uncovers previously suppressed correspondence between Kant and the jailed Marquis de Sade, along with a shocking diary that records midnight deflowerings and Baudelairean hymns to triple-great Satan (Harman 2009, p. 52)."And that's just the beginning - this is fun reading. If only my academic writing could be half this lively! (Indeed, if only there were more academic writing this fun in general...)
In any case, I may occasionally post about this book, for you philosophical types out there. I'm eager to find out what happens! (i.e., to get to his critique. Back in 2006, I sat in on a great seminar with Bruce Braun at Minnesota, in which we read portions of Latour's Reassembling the Social and Harman's Tool-Being - alas, this book hadn't yet been published, so we could only speculate about what they would say to each other. Now there's a whole blog devoted to the actor-network/Heidegger encounter.)
A short post about parenting
In my introductory post, I mentioned "parenting" as one of the topics about which I'd occasionally blog, so I'll go ahead and start making good on that promise.
The direct inspiration was an article that's evidently all the rage right now, Amy Chua's essay on "tough love" parenting (which I assume is either from or based on her book). If you read the essay, make sure to read the follow-up for crucial context - her style sometimes leaves you wondering whether she's being serious or tongue-in-cheek, so it's useful to find out. And there's no shortage of responses to it: here are responses by Lisa Belkin and Judith Warner.
I liked Warner's observation that what the various parenting systems share in common is the "article of faith" that "parents can have control." While I believe parents should do their best with this incredibly tough job, I'm often having to remind myself that so much of what happens in the development of my children has nothing to do with anything I do. (And sometimes it's useful to reread Philip Larkin's blunt, crude classic "This Be The Verse": a nice cynical reminder that you're destined to fail in some way or another no matter what you do...)
I suppose my philosophy of parenting these days is a kind of pragmatic bricolage. I suspect an astute anthropological observer could probably identify some fundamental patterns in my approach (and I've dabbled in a few "systems"), but I tend to see parenting as a kind of "muddling through," experimenting with various tools that may or may not work from one week to the next.
(An example that pops to mind: last fall I introduced the "Meep Meep" response to insults. Basically, if my brother insults me, I can reply "Meep Meep" in a Road Runner voice, and my brother is then compelled to re-enact Wile E. Coyote's fall into a canyon, using body or voice or both. This worked rather well for a few weeks, until the older brother found a loophole: doing the Wile E. Coyote fall, but landing on the head of his younger brother. Once the younger brother picked up on this violent retort, the "Meep Meep" tool no longer functioned. Insults have once again regained their power. On to a new experiment.)
The direct inspiration was an article that's evidently all the rage right now, Amy Chua's essay on "tough love" parenting (which I assume is either from or based on her book). If you read the essay, make sure to read the follow-up for crucial context - her style sometimes leaves you wondering whether she's being serious or tongue-in-cheek, so it's useful to find out. And there's no shortage of responses to it: here are responses by Lisa Belkin and Judith Warner.
I liked Warner's observation that what the various parenting systems share in common is the "article of faith" that "parents can have control." While I believe parents should do their best with this incredibly tough job, I'm often having to remind myself that so much of what happens in the development of my children has nothing to do with anything I do. (And sometimes it's useful to reread Philip Larkin's blunt, crude classic "This Be The Verse": a nice cynical reminder that you're destined to fail in some way or another no matter what you do...)
I suppose my philosophy of parenting these days is a kind of pragmatic bricolage. I suspect an astute anthropological observer could probably identify some fundamental patterns in my approach (and I've dabbled in a few "systems"), but I tend to see parenting as a kind of "muddling through," experimenting with various tools that may or may not work from one week to the next.
(An example that pops to mind: last fall I introduced the "Meep Meep" response to insults. Basically, if my brother insults me, I can reply "Meep Meep" in a Road Runner voice, and my brother is then compelled to re-enact Wile E. Coyote's fall into a canyon, using body or voice or both. This worked rather well for a few weeks, until the older brother found a loophole: doing the Wile E. Coyote fall, but landing on the head of his younger brother. Once the younger brother picked up on this violent retort, the "Meep Meep" tool no longer functioned. Insults have once again regained their power. On to a new experiment.)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Other ways you know you're in Wisconsin
1. Kids go to school when it's snowing. Not the case in my hometown of Atlanta this week. I remember being sent home a few times even when it might snow.
2. State law requires the Packer flag to be flown above the Badger flag. (Both of these are of course tributes to Wisconsin's industrial laborers: the meat packers and the lead miners.)
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Something you can only do in the North
As a child, I was a big fan of Charles Schulz's Peanuts. But as someone growing up in the Southeast, I was a bit baffled by the strips showing Snoopy and the kids playing ice hockey outdoors. What are they skating on? How come it's not melting?
Then, ten years ago, I moved to Minneapolis and finally experienced the DIY skating rink phenomenon for the first time. For those of you who grew up in Wisconsin or Minnesota or Toronto or other places in the humid continental/snowy winter climate zone (see the map below, courtesy of Wikipedia), this is just a normal part of growing up - for me, it's still pretty amazing. This is most certainly one of those things that makes Wisconsin and its climatic kindred spirits distinctive as places.
I'm especially in awe of those dedicated souls, like our elementary school principal, who get out there early in the morning on frigid days and make these rinks for us to enjoy. Wisconsin winters provide a good bit to complain about, to be sure, but it would be a shame to see this tradition disappear if certain climate models are accurate.
Friday, January 7, 2011
The view from my Bolton office
In the spirit of livening up the site with a few pictures, I'm taking a break and playing around a bit with my camera. Here's are some of the inspiring views from my office in Bolton. It hasn't been a big day for the solar panels. (Next week maybe I'll photograph and post some of the genuinely inspiring views from the office I get to use this year in Curtin - up there, you can see the lake.)
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Geographies of Obesity and Diabetes
A colleague sent this interesting link today - check out these maps of the geographic distribution of obesity and diabetes in the US. You can see how the distribution has changed over time at the state level of resolution; you can also see how distributions vary at the county level within states, as well as across racial/ethnic categories.
It looks like Milwaukee County has higher levels than the state of Wisconsin as a whole. But some of these data are puzzling... why do the numbers seem to drop so quickly when you cross the state line from Nebraska to Colorado, or Illinois to Missouri?
It looks like Milwaukee County has higher levels than the state of Wisconsin as a whole. But some of these data are puzzling... why do the numbers seem to drop so quickly when you cross the state line from Nebraska to Colorado, or Illinois to Missouri?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Geothermal in Wisconsin: Who knew?
All right, I'll violate my "self-disclosure" rule by sharing one of my secret fantasies: to build a backyard hot tub that uses no chemicals, doesn't pollute, doesn't contribute greenhouse gases to the atmosphere, requires minimal maintenance, etc. I doubt I'll ever complete this project, since I'm not particularly handy and I don't have a lot of free time, but I'll talk about it occasionally anyway. It's no longer a secret fantasy, after all.
I'm bringing it up now because of an email I received this morning informing me that UW-Oshkosh is going to develop a biogas plant. No, my mind didn't race to the possibility of fueling a hot tub with grass clippings and coffee grounds - although that would be great, wouldn't it? And check it out: Wisconsin leads the US not only in binge drinking, but also in "creating energy from cow manure-using digesters." Tonight I'll dream of a cow-powered hot tub...
In fact, what caught my attention was not the biogas part, but the passing mention that UW-Oshkosh is using a geothermal system to heat its Student Success Center and a new residence hall. If you're like me, you associate geothermal energy with places near mountains, volcanoes, and tectonic plate boundaries more generally - that is, the kinds of places where you find thermal hot springs. (Click on the last link to see a great NOAA map of hot springs in the US. Alas, there are none in or anywhere near Wisconsin.)
But as it turns out, we're now going well beyond our historical range for tapping into geothermal energy - if by that we mean using systems that absorb heat from the ground when it is warmer than the air, rather than just those that use good ol' hot rocks. I'll let the Wisconsin Geothermal Association explain.
OK, so maybe geothermal isn't the best word - here's a long Wikipedia article discussing why - but I like the idea that I can still actively fantasize about having a geothermal hot tub in Milwaukee.
I'm bringing it up now because of an email I received this morning informing me that UW-Oshkosh is going to develop a biogas plant. No, my mind didn't race to the possibility of fueling a hot tub with grass clippings and coffee grounds - although that would be great, wouldn't it? And check it out: Wisconsin leads the US not only in binge drinking, but also in "creating energy from cow manure-using digesters." Tonight I'll dream of a cow-powered hot tub...
In fact, what caught my attention was not the biogas part, but the passing mention that UW-Oshkosh is using a geothermal system to heat its Student Success Center and a new residence hall. If you're like me, you associate geothermal energy with places near mountains, volcanoes, and tectonic plate boundaries more generally - that is, the kinds of places where you find thermal hot springs. (Click on the last link to see a great NOAA map of hot springs in the US. Alas, there are none in or anywhere near Wisconsin.)
But as it turns out, we're now going well beyond our historical range for tapping into geothermal energy - if by that we mean using systems that absorb heat from the ground when it is warmer than the air, rather than just those that use good ol' hot rocks. I'll let the Wisconsin Geothermal Association explain.
OK, so maybe geothermal isn't the best word - here's a long Wikipedia article discussing why - but I like the idea that I can still actively fantasize about having a geothermal hot tub in Milwaukee.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Welcome!
"What the world needs now: one more blog."
Welcome to Place-Sense, which I'm beginning as an experiment in January 2011. My aim with this blog is to share (with the audiences listed below) some of the things I'm interested in. I hope that at least four other people will find them interesting as well.
Here's an introduction to the blog, which I suspect will undergo changes as the blog evolves:
What will you find here?
I'm writing this blog with the following audiences in mind:
1) Students in my geography classes at UW-Milwaukee
Currently, this blog is purely optional reading. Over time, I'm hoping to build up a collection of links, commentaries, and posts that students in my classes (including Introduction to Environmental Geography, Urban Environmental Change and Social Justice, Contemporary Geographic Approaches, and a forthcoming graduate seminar on cities and the environment) may find interesting or useful.
2) Colleagues and students in geography departments, at UWM and beyond
3) Anyone else who might be interested in what I'm up to: friends, strangers, family, kids, desperate gossip columnists, etc.
While I suspect topics germane to geography will dominate here, I also intend to use this blog as a venue for posting about other things that I'm interested in, which may include (for example):
- Music
- Parenting
- Books I'm reading for fun
- Food and beverages
- Fantasy house projects
- Travel (and fantasy travel plans)
- Academic life
- Marginal political movements of the early 20th century
- Etc.
What will you not find here?
Although I'm leaving myself the flexibility to post about a wide variety of topics, there are several things you won't find here, including the following:
- Hyperpartisan political content, manifestos, etc. (I may touch on controversial topics every now and then, but it's not my intent to use this as a political rag)
- Evangelizing
- Tantalizing gossip
- "Adults-only" material
- Scathing personal attacks
- Incitements to criminal activity
- Exciting commercial offers
- Deeply personal, confessional "over-shares"
- Spoilers
- Stuff that could get me fired
- Recaps of Dora the Explorer episodes
What's with "Place-Sense"?
I may change this name at some point, but here are some of the connotations I have in mind.
First, it's meant to evoke the geographic concept of "sense of place." This concept has more than one definition, but it's generally taken to refer to the way we experience, know, interpret, and invest meaning in particular locales. (Among geographers, Yi-Fu Tuan is probably the most famous developer of the concept, but others who have discussed the idea in interesting ways include John Agnew, who characterizes it as one of three primary dimensions of place - along with location and locale - and Doreen Massey, who has theorized the "progressive sense of place.") So one of the ideas here is that my posts will in some way or another discuss my own experiences and reflections about the place known as Milwaukee (where I live), as well as other places I might physically or virtually visit.
But I called it "place-sense" instead of "sense of place," because the content won't be limited to discussions of the geographic concept of "sense of place." The name "place-sense" conjures up other images and ideas for me as well.
One would be simply "making sense of places," which is one of the main activities of geographers, whether or not they use the concept of "sense of place." For instance, many of us analyze how things or people are distributed within a particular place, and how these distributions are related to each other. Others are interested in the processes, forces, and actors that come to create and maintain particular places. Still others are interested in how places are represented, and how these representations circulate (here's an example).
Another set of connotations would be the various phrases that end in "sense," like horse sense, common sense, sixth sense, nonsense, etc. I doubt I'll discuss parapsychology, but I suspect I'll be tempted to post something nonsensical now and then.
Finally, let's face it: the terms "place" and "sense" are both so vague, with so many different meanings, that I figure I can get away with posting just about anything and saying it's somehow related to "place-sense." Maybe I'm wrong, but we'll see how it goes.
In any case, I'll leave it there for now. Welcome to Place-Sense.
Welcome to Place-Sense, which I'm beginning as an experiment in January 2011. My aim with this blog is to share (with the audiences listed below) some of the things I'm interested in. I hope that at least four other people will find them interesting as well.
Here's an introduction to the blog, which I suspect will undergo changes as the blog evolves:
What will you find here?
I'm writing this blog with the following audiences in mind:
1) Students in my geography classes at UW-Milwaukee
Currently, this blog is purely optional reading. Over time, I'm hoping to build up a collection of links, commentaries, and posts that students in my classes (including Introduction to Environmental Geography, Urban Environmental Change and Social Justice, Contemporary Geographic Approaches, and a forthcoming graduate seminar on cities and the environment) may find interesting or useful.
2) Colleagues and students in geography departments, at UWM and beyond
3) Anyone else who might be interested in what I'm up to: friends, strangers, family, kids, desperate gossip columnists, etc.
While I suspect topics germane to geography will dominate here, I also intend to use this blog as a venue for posting about other things that I'm interested in, which may include (for example):
- Music
- Parenting
- Books I'm reading for fun
- Food and beverages
- Fantasy house projects
- Travel (and fantasy travel plans)
- Academic life
- Marginal political movements of the early 20th century
- Etc.
What will you not find here?
Although I'm leaving myself the flexibility to post about a wide variety of topics, there are several things you won't find here, including the following:
- Hyperpartisan political content, manifestos, etc. (I may touch on controversial topics every now and then, but it's not my intent to use this as a political rag)
- Evangelizing
- Tantalizing gossip
- "Adults-only" material
- Scathing personal attacks
- Incitements to criminal activity
- Exciting commercial offers
- Deeply personal, confessional "over-shares"
- Spoilers
- Stuff that could get me fired
- Recaps of Dora the Explorer episodes
What's with "Place-Sense"?
I may change this name at some point, but here are some of the connotations I have in mind.
First, it's meant to evoke the geographic concept of "sense of place." This concept has more than one definition, but it's generally taken to refer to the way we experience, know, interpret, and invest meaning in particular locales. (Among geographers, Yi-Fu Tuan is probably the most famous developer of the concept, but others who have discussed the idea in interesting ways include John Agnew, who characterizes it as one of three primary dimensions of place - along with location and locale - and Doreen Massey, who has theorized the "progressive sense of place.") So one of the ideas here is that my posts will in some way or another discuss my own experiences and reflections about the place known as Milwaukee (where I live), as well as other places I might physically or virtually visit.
But I called it "place-sense" instead of "sense of place," because the content won't be limited to discussions of the geographic concept of "sense of place." The name "place-sense" conjures up other images and ideas for me as well.
One would be simply "making sense of places," which is one of the main activities of geographers, whether or not they use the concept of "sense of place." For instance, many of us analyze how things or people are distributed within a particular place, and how these distributions are related to each other. Others are interested in the processes, forces, and actors that come to create and maintain particular places. Still others are interested in how places are represented, and how these representations circulate (here's an example).
Another set of connotations would be the various phrases that end in "sense," like horse sense, common sense, sixth sense, nonsense, etc. I doubt I'll discuss parapsychology, but I suspect I'll be tempted to post something nonsensical now and then.
Finally, let's face it: the terms "place" and "sense" are both so vague, with so many different meanings, that I figure I can get away with posting just about anything and saying it's somehow related to "place-sense." Maybe I'm wrong, but we'll see how it goes.
In any case, I'll leave it there for now. Welcome to Place-Sense.
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