[See all Notion­al Sig­ni­fic­ance posts] The entry to Bolton St cemetery is unre­mark­able: a gap in a white fence off a respect­able street, a can­opy of pines, plain crosses against a cor­rug­ated iron fence. But I know that I’m passing into a ter­rit­ory that would have the earth-magic wing of the psy­cho­geo­graph­ic­al move­ment pant­ing with […]

The path, from tilted field down into the motor­way chasm, winds past richly-tagged gar­age walls and rear fences. In my mind, I think that Oak Park Aven­ue was once like this — dark brick, spalling con­crete, crunch­ing gravel, rust­ing cor­rug­ate — but I no longer trust my memory as any­thing oth­er than a syn­thes­is of sen­sa­tions and […]