Once I drew directional lines with edible ink onto Nilla wafers, arranged them on gridded fabric and then invited people to dip them in milk and eat them, the directional lines, north, south, east, west, dissolving into colors then eaten. Another time, I gave away square inch card stock, also with directional arrows, with the lines each pointing towards small infinity symbols. Distributable square inches, pocket friendly infinite expanse. Then I followed a compass towards its magnetic true north, only to find myself walking west on New York City's map, parallel to Central Park North. It seems I've played with what Lisa Robertson calls a "spatial synthetics" for a very long time, negotiating, hop-scotching over its everyday failures, to ultimately end up with a long engagement with a space in which direction is dissolved entirely; capital Outer Space.
So to me it is a fortuitous occasion that I was invited to be involved in something inspired by the Merry Melodies scene in which Bugs Bunny burrows his way to different locations on earth, a map in hand failing to get him to his destination, as he holds on to the instruction to "make a left turn at Albuquerque."