• Wayfinding in a Wasteland:An Exploration of Embodiment in the Master-Planned Community of Rancho Vistoso
• Taylor Miller (bio)

Fifteen years ago, I fought it tooth and nail. Ten or five years ago, I fought it tooth and nail. And now I fight it tooth and nail. Every mile marker or year I grow older, a distinct kind of resistance. Hated Chicago, hated the way they all treated me (rather, ignored me)—sure, Mom and Dad, anything, anywhere should be a welcome change. Back to the Sonoran Desert, where Mom went to school and Dad has dreamt of golfing 300 days a year. No new landscape changes the insecurities lodged deep within.

A distinct new sort of out-of-placeness, this time not only amongst high school kids, but amongst vistas from another planet. Everything is brown, barren, ugly. Inhospitable—the people and the plants. In a matter of months I'll graduate and get the hell out. "Out" was a plane ticket north—having driven with my parents from Illinois to southern Arizona before my senior year of high school, an opportune moment when we were all desperate for a change of scenery. This landed me in another town where I felt I didn't fit in—Oro Valley, Arizona—the part of Tucson where no one worth knowing lives, where retirees shuffle between Safeway for groceries and Walgreens for a bag of prescriptions. Yes, "out" was Jackson Hole, Wyoming—where I could be loud, aggressive, and alone amongst the mountains and finally expel my teenage angst under the most expansive skies. I left Oro Valley, my home and my parents, like an unattended dumpster fire. Grievances aired and scuffles surfaced but were never fully attended to, so they burned and burned for years while I frolicked in the Teton mountains. Goodbye, Arizona. Hopefully see you never. [End Page 566]

Never, until about four years into my foray, I skied into a tree, cracking my clavicle and rendering my ski bum self all but use- and purposeless. To Bozeman I go. With everything I own (mainly in the form of coats, socks, and various types of skis) in the back of my Tacoma. Big Sky country will be just that—bigger, more off-grid, and, there's even Montana State University should I get bored. I could take my parents up on that offer for help with tuition, and major in downhill deviance.

Late July, the skies opened. A rain I'd never seen during this stint in the Rockies. I stood there in the bicycle shop where I somehow managed to make more than minimum wage. The front door was propped open, no customers in sight. It was an inhospitable rain, and after a winter of great snowpack, the ground certainly didn't need anything more. The drops fell angrily, telling me I was no longer welcome here. What are you doing, besides being your best brat? A high school diploma and bad shoulder, where do you think you can go? It was the kind of cinematic internal reckoning that shifts a whole life trajectory. I used the shop computer and started filling out the application form for the University of Arizona.

In-state tuition might have been the topical draw, but there was a distinct new sensation of going home that I never really felt before. Home can't be Tucson, can it? After speeding through undergraduate studies as a photography-then-Art-and-Visual-Culture-Education student, and even finishing a semester early, I recall yearning in my final weeks of college life: I CAN'T WAIT TO GO. I despised those three and a half years for no reason besides feeling like I was missing something. Everything. I'll be in Los Angeles in no time. Then up to the Bay. Then, off to expat. Nearly every moment in Jackson Hole and Bozeman was spent outside. In Tucson, barely a minute at all. The dry air. The brown plants. The heat. The heat.

Everything was fine, in hindsight, but during those days, I was Baudelaire's l'héautontimorouménos, the great self-tormenter. I pilgrimaged to San Francisco for some months following graduation, then...

• 荒原中的寻路：在兰乔维斯托索总体规划社区中体现的探索
• 泰勒·米勒（生物）

十五年前，我为之奋斗。十，五年前，我曾与之抗争过。现在，我用牙齿和指甲来对抗它。我长大的每一英里或每一年，都是一种独特的抵抗。讨厌芝加哥，讨厌他们所有人对待我的方式（宁可不理我），当然，爸爸妈妈，任何地方，任何地方都应该是一个可喜的变化。回到索诺兰沙漠（Sonoran Desert），妈妈上学了，爸爸梦想着一年打300天。没有新的景观可以改变内部深处的不安全感。

一次新的错位，这次不仅在高中生中，而且在另一个星球的远景中。一切都是褐色，贫瘠，丑陋的。热情好客-人与植物。在短短几个月内，我将毕业并摆脱困境。“出门”是北上的机票-在我高中毕业之前，我和父母从伊利诺伊州驱车前往亚利桑那州南部，这是一个契合时机的时刻，当时我们都迫切希望换个风景。这使我在另一个我感到不适应的小镇-亚利桑那州的奥罗山谷-图森的一个地方，那里没人值得一游，那里的退休人员在塞夫韦（Safeway）买杂货，在沃尔格林（Walgreens）买一袋药。是的，“出门”是怀俄明州的杰克逊·霍尔（Jackson Hole），在那里我可以大声，好斗且孤独，在群山之中，最后在最广阔的天空下消除了我的少年焦虑。我像无人值守的垃圾箱大火一样离开了奥罗山谷，我的家和父母。抱怨飞了起来，浮出水面，但从未得到充分的照顾，所以当我在提顿山脉嬉戏时，它们燃烧了好几年。再见，亚利桑那州。希望永远都不会见到你。[完页566]

从来没有，直到我进军大约四年之后，我才滑入一棵树上，使锁骨破裂，并使滑雪板烧伤的人变得自我，几乎毫无用处和无目的。我去博兹曼。我拥有的所有东西（主要是外套，袜子和各种类型的滑雪板）都位于我的塔科马的后方。“大天空”国家就是这样-更大，更离网，而且，即使是蒙大拿州立大学，我也应该感到无聊。我可以带我的父母接受那笔学费的帮助，并专注于下坡偏差。

7月下旬，天空开了。在落基山脉的这段时间里，我从未见过一场大雨。我站在那家自行车店里，在那里我设法赚到了超过最低工资。前门被撑开，看不到顾客。那是一场荒凉的大雨，经过了一个大雪山的冬天，地面当然不需要更多了。水滴怒不可遏，告诉我在这里我不再受欢迎。除了做自己最好的孩子，你还在做什么？高中文凭和肩膀不好，您认为您可以去哪里？那种电影般的内部推论改变了整个人生轨迹。我使用了商店的计算机，并开始填写亚利桑那大学的申请表。

州内学费可能是局部平局，但有一个不同的新感觉回家了，我从来没有真正感受到。家不能成为图森，可以吗？在以摄影，艺术和视觉文化教育学生的身份完成本科学习，甚至提早完成一个学期后，我回想起了大学生活的最后几周：我无法等待。除了觉得我缺少一些东西外，我无缘无故鄙视了三年半。一切。我马上就会到洛杉矶。然后到海湾。然后，出发前往。杰克逊·霍尔（Jackson Hole）和博兹曼（Bozeman）中的几乎每一刻都在外面度过。在图森，几乎只有一分钟。干燥的空气。棕色的植物。热度。热。

事后看来，一切都很好，但那段时间，我是鲍德莱尔（Baudelaire）的l'héautontimorouménos，伟大的自我折磨者。毕业后我到旧金山去了几个月，然后...