March 6, 2007
I only moved to Davis Square, future home of CHIPOTLE, at the end of last summer. I don’t have too many memories of life here, as strange as that may seem. It’s all very routine. I rarely go out to the bars in Davis; my friends mostly live down at Harvard, and outings usually take place there or at a random apartment on the way to Inman Square (my apologies to anyone unfamiliar with Massachusetts Bay geography). My life in my neighborhood is very much yom-yomi.
), I somehow saw a picture of Davis on Flickr. After that I was hooked. I scour through pictures; I go through a complete slide-show of Somerville/Cambridge pictures, filling up with a nostalgia for Somerville moments I never had. There was the blizzard I never got to see; there were the live bands I watched in the square instead of angrily listening to in my appartment; there was “Sideways” playing at the Somerville theater. It was a strange feeling; all the markings existed to give me a stronger identification with my surrounds than I had before, yet it is almost hyper-real, an imagined, invented identification. I am both more at home here and less so.
It’s almost like a ghost. I can remember it, if I try, but I have no attachments to it. My internal map of Davis is very much shaped by the empty space, now rising into a CVS.
Still some pictures really do make me feel at home.
The photo itself is a mess, but the scene is unmistakable.
The significance of space: impossible to tell in writing.