Before I could even read and write, I drew maps. The desire to create a visual model of my physical environment seems to have been built into me. Throughout childhood, I drew maps of the nearby forests, carefully pacing out trails in order to reproduce their proportions correctly, and marking down swamps, cliffs, and glacial boulders. When I became aware of the existence of published maps and atlases, I pored over them with the enthusiasm that other kids had for hockey cards and comics.
I was not, however, destined to be an “armchair traveler”. Maps, for me, were ― and remain ― an expression of an impatient restlessness that is the signature of my temperament. Wanderlust. Itchy feet. A chronic chafing against any confinement or restraint. It’s not surprising that my intellectual interests combined geography and history with the philosophical issues of freedom and slavery. Read more »







