The Situationists were also practitioners of a special urban-analytic walking style, the dérive—the “drift”—which Debord described as “a technique of transient passage through varied ambiences. The dérive entails playful-constructive behavior and awareness of psychogeographical effects; which completely distinguishes it from the classical notions of the journey and the stroll.” “In a dérive,” Debord deadpans, “one or more persons during a certain period drop their usual motives for movement and action, their relations, their work and leisure activities, and let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the encounters they find there."
The dérive joins the free association of surrealism, the LSD of hippiedom, and cinematic montage as tactics for overcoming the fixity of received ideas of order and logic.
By putting progress through the city into a state of constant indeterminacy, it represents a schooled “style” of being lost.
Instead of an existentially grounded plastic and spatial experience, architecture has adopted the psychological strategy of advertising and instant persuasion; buildings have turned into image products detached from existential depth and sincerity.
Architecture of our time often appears as mere retinal art.
Psychologists have noted that people tend to place greater artistic value on images when they can see the work that has gone into them — a tendency known as the “effort heuristic”. They are also more likely to connect emotionally with the work if they can detect the human hand, says Goldsmiths’ Chamberlain. “There’s an argument that if we see a brush stroke, we almost recreate it, and that’s part of the connection we feel with the artist — you can feel the intention.”
Perhaps to capitalize on this, some architects now show presentation drawings that look hand-drawn but are actually generated entirely by computer. “It’s totally fake,” says Brillhart. “They just take a computer image into Photoshop and put filters over it to make it look like it’s drawn by hand. It’s kind of amusing — instead of just sitting down and drawing for an hour, they spend eight hours making it look like a hand drawing.”
Here the conscious acts like a man who, hearing a suspicious noise in the cellar, hurries to the attic and, finding no burglars there, decides, consequently, that the noise was pure imagination. In reality, this prudent man did not dare venture into the cellar.
In the final chapters Bachelard lets slip (a confession really) how if he "were a psychiatrist," he would recommend a poem by Baudelaire to treat "anguish." His squabble then is not with the purpose but rather the approach of a still-young profession. And of course, why not treat the power of great poems as something akin to "virtual 'drugs'"?
(1) Record your work as notes to your future self and colleagues.
Write notes so that someone fifty years from now (or more) will understand and be able to use the factual information you collected, perhaps for purposes quite different from the original reasons.
Clearly separate facts from interpretations so these are not confusing to a future reader.
(2) Establish a clear and consistent notebook format and process.
I always include the data, place, main activities or events, weather conditions, and other people involves. The day, month, and year is the most important link between that particular point in time and other people’s records, separate data sheets that I filled out myself, photos, and most important, collected specimens.
Documenting collecting strategies and protocols receives special attention. In the moment, these may seem like common knowledge for the field team, so sometimes no one bothers to write them out.
(3) Don’t lose your field records!
(4) Pack a camera, create a visual record.
No matter how many words you write to describe a fossil locality, you can’t beat an actual photo, taken on the spot, annotated in pen, and pasted into your notebook.
There is no substitute for a photograph you actually mark in “real time” in the field as the best way to preserve a lasting, accurate record for yourself, or for someone who has never seen the site or object in question.
(5) Learning through sketches and diagrams.
Photographs are great, but drawn what you see is a more powerful way to learn about spatial patterns and relationships.
Even if you are not an expert at drawing, you can make sketches that are much more informative than words would be.
Always include a scale, an orientation, and labels in your diagrams.