Friday, October 10, 2008

Cognition

Due to its lack of complexity, the horseshoe pit becomes an easily memorable location. Its small size as well as it basic layout allow most all inhabitants to remember exactly what it looks like. Once you enter into the pit, you are faced with two main choices. You can either move to the left and relax on the picnic table, or turn right and enter into the pits. Although there are an infinite amount of possible locations to inhabit in the space, these are your main points of interest. Everyone that enters the space may see these two areas differently, however, they are very distinct. The pits to me feel extremely antique, with the old wooden fence and stone staircase. In my mind, this begins to stick out and forms an immediate image that translates into a memory. On the flip side, to someone else, the space may feel completely different. The old fence and the stone stairway may translate into nothing and they focus their attention on the picnic table and horseshoe pits. If cognitive mapping was to be done in this location by a friend, and myself I would be willing to bet that the maps would be completely different. This theory can be related back to the book “Invisible Cities,” by Italo Calvino. In this book, the main character, Marco Polo describes to a friend his adventures through different cities in the world. However, as the book comes to a conclusion, Polo reveals that all the cities were really the same place. He was just interpreting them differently due to his immediate perception. This is extremely fascinating because he essentially proved the point that cognitive mapping is never the same. Even the same person will most likely never see the same place twice. Every little variable has the ability to completely change your perception of a place and in turn, alter the attitude, experience and memory.

 

When I enter into the pits, I ascend the staircase and proceed directly to the pits. I like to stand on the side closest to the staircase, as overgrown woods obstruct the other side. However, if someone else is already at the pits, I will ‘walk’ to the other side. When one team has to go to the furthest side it is said they must walk. It’s a general term used in all sporting activities, often meaning the losing team. Warm-ups normally last a few tosses and then it’s into the game. Both sides of the pits have a very different feel to them. When throwing to one pit, it is evident that it has much more sand than the other. The shoes seem to hit this pit and dig in very well, causing them to not bounce out. However, throwing to the other pit is much more challenging. This pit has much harder sand and often causes the shoes to bounce around more than you would like. This is another reason as to why I like to stand at the closest pit; this is the hard pit, the soft one is located on the far side. The imagery is also extremely different depending on the side you are throwing from. When at the far end, you have the distractions of people at the picnic table in front of you at all times. Although you are closer to the noise and distractions of the picnic table at the close pit, your back is turned to them allowing you to block them out better. Out of sight, out of mind, right? This experience and these variables allow the pits to give off a different attitude caused by many factors.

 

The attitude in the pits is very much dictated by the weather and the inhabitants. The area can be a bright enlightening location, or a dark gloomy stressful destination. The attitude felt in the space can make the users have an enjoyable time, or not. Attitude can, and probably will be, described differently by all inhabitants. The grounds keeper of the pits might not enjoy them as much as they are constantly mowing the lawn, and keeping weeds out of the sandboxes. I assume there are grounds keepers here. I’m always at work during the day, but when I get home at night and I look over to the pits and the grass is never long, and the sand is often groomed. I would like to ask whomever it is that takes care of the pits to add more sand to the closer pit, but, that’s almost an impossible task with work and school. Being that the pits are used mainly at night and on the weekends, the players don’t need to deal with this hassle and only enjoy them when they want. As with many spaces, the horseshoe pits have the ability to change attitude and change your attitude on a constant basis. Because they are natural, in a natural setting, they can change on a minutely basis. A bad day with the shoes can immediately ruin your mood and mess up the rest of your day or night. Practice helps to minimize these types of days, but nothing can eliminate them. The ringer is worth three points, but if you undershoot by a quarter of an inch... you’re out of luck and only get one. This makes the games drag and the tempers flair.

 

Although the horseshoe pit is clearly meant for one purpose and one purpose only, I can understand how to many, it could be perceived as something different. When you look at studies done by researchers in relating to cognitive mapping, you are able to understand that both age and gender play a large roll in the way someone sees a space. For example, a young child in the pits may see them as a sand box and a place to play with their toys. On the same token, an old lady may see them as a place to garden and to plant flowers. While these are a couple obvious uses for the space, it can clearly be used for many other activities. The choice to play catch with a baseball or football is a valid option in this area. Because it is open and long, playing catch would be possible in the area. I have never seen this happen here, however it is easy to imagine it. I also like to think up scenarios in my mind of if this were to happen. A horseshoe pit is used for horseshoes, not catch. So, if I were to enter into the pits and someone was playing catch would they leave? Would I ask them to leave? I don’t know, I’ve never had to deal with this; however, I contemplate it almost every time I approach that old stone staircase.

 

Once play has ceased, I pick up the shoes and head down the staircase. If you thought going up this pathway was tough, you should try going down it. I’m glad I wasn’t doing a leg exercise up there, as I don’t think I would make it down the stairs…

 

-The Ringer

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