"You have noticed that everything an Indian does is in a circle and that is because the Power of the World always works in circles, and everything tries to be round. In the old days when we were a strong and happy people, all our power came to us from the hoop of the nation, and so long as the hoop was unbroken, the people flourished. The flowering tree was the living center of the hoop, and the circle of the four quarters nourished it. The east gave peace and light, the south gave warmth, the west gave rain. and the north with its cold and mighty wind gave strength and endurance. This knowledge came to us from the outer world with our religion. Everything the Power of the World does is done in a circle. The sky is round, and I have heard that the earth is round like a ball, and so are all the stars. The wind, in its greatest power, whirls. Birds make their nests in circles, for theirs is the same religion as ours."
"What attracts people most in a city are other people. It is amazing how many pedestrian malls are designed on the assumption that what people want to do is get away from other people. We see this in the design of sitting areas where the backs of people are turned to the main flow of people. A brief study will convince you of the deep desire of people to be in the center and at the crossroads. We became aware of this in our early research on street corner behavior. When people meet on a street corner, do they move out of the pedestrian stream or do they stay in the middle of it? My hypothesis was that people would gravitate to the little-used strip along the side of the stream. Quite the contrary, they moved into it, and the longer the conversation, the more likely that it would take place smack in the very middle of the traffic stream.
Learn to look at steps. If people are sitting on steps and actually blocking passage, it is a good thing. It means they are very comfortable there.
Probably the greatest public space in the city - the most unifying of all - is the street corner. Street corners are the place where so much of the congress of the city goes on, and it has a vey functional reason. Take 'smoozing in the garment district of New York. If you go along Seventh Avenue, any time from 10 o'clock in the morning until dark, you will see these knots of men standing on the sidewalks talking, sometimes not talking. Smoozing is a Yiddish term which means 'nothing talk.' Of course there is a lot of business talk, a lot of gossip, but then you begin to notice they resemble men standing around a country courthouse. It is a very ancient city position that fulfills some deep human impulse. Smoozing is not necessary talking. Right after lunch, usually three or four men will line up - three abreast. They are not necessarily saying anything but seem to be engaged in a contented amiable silence. Watch their feet. The feet reflect a communication. If a girl goes by, the feet reveal what they are thinking. Or some crazy person goes by and one guy stops his foot pattern and then another will take it up. Larger groups reveal similar foot motions, and you will also notice the tendency to reciprocal gestures.
I have never broken the code about the meaning of these foot motions, but I feel that there is in these non-verbal patterns a human congress that is terribly important, and that if we do not see them in a city there is something very wrong with the city. There are a number of places where you do not see this kind of activity: something about the collection of buildings and streets which prohibits this kind of thing. Now, I would give you other ways to buttress this point, but instead will repeat my former statement: what attracts people most to the city are other people.
"I never felt so lonely as in that particular hour when I was surrounded by people but suddenly realized my ultimate isolation. I became silent and retired from the group in order to be alone with my loneliness. I wanted my external predicament to match my internal one.
"Loneliness can be conquered only by those who can bear solitude. We have a natural desire for solitude because we are men. We want to feel what we are - namely, alone - not in pain and horror, but with joy and courage. There are many ways in which solitude can be sought and experienced. And each way can be called 'religious,' if it is true, as one philosopher said, that 'religion is what a man does with his solitariness.'"
