Again
Reset, then a blinking cursor. Once again, as many times before - here, publicly, ere privately.
Recently I’ve been organizing, reorganizing, reshuffling, recycling and just plain throwing away, the physical odds and ends of nostalgia. It’s amazing how much you can accumulate late on Sundays after many a busy weekend. How, over time, all of it can sit and gather dust in the corners of your home or mind. Then one day you return to the scene, find these moments paused. Some things you wonder why you ever kept, others you can’t bear to throw away just yet.
I just moved 3.6 gigs of data from a DVD to the network here at work. Some of it, probably all of it is duplicate. There’s just so much stored there and so little remembered about what things were called or what they looked like that it’s almost impossible to find. I heard somewhere, probably public radio, that the human mind still has the edge on computers when it comes to storage. It makes me feel good about the human mind to think that true; however, it’s never really been about the limits of storage, rather about the methods of retrieval.
It’s amazing to me just how much stuff we can squeeze into this home of ours. How the interior has seemed to grow, even as its value has dropped. Recently we’ve invested quite a bit in a brand new kitchen, the most obvious sign of our reconsolidation, a small act of renewal. This home, my mind, our lives; now in constant reshuffle. I keep bringing to the surface loosened memories, feeling keenly the distance from those simpler times.
A dream of words, I haven’t given it up quite yet. My timing is poor, as it has always been. But I have to try to find a rhythm of writing again, before everything changes.
Recently I’ve been organizing, reorganizing, reshuffling, recycling and just plain throwing away, the physical odds and ends of nostalgia. It’s amazing how much you can accumulate late on Sundays after many a busy weekend. How, over time, all of it can sit and gather dust in the corners of your home or mind. Then one day you return to the scene, find these moments paused. Some things you wonder why you ever kept, others you can’t bear to throw away just yet.
I just moved 3.6 gigs of data from a DVD to the network here at work. Some of it, probably all of it is duplicate. There’s just so much stored there and so little remembered about what things were called or what they looked like that it’s almost impossible to find. I heard somewhere, probably public radio, that the human mind still has the edge on computers when it comes to storage. It makes me feel good about the human mind to think that true; however, it’s never really been about the limits of storage, rather about the methods of retrieval.
It’s amazing to me just how much stuff we can squeeze into this home of ours. How the interior has seemed to grow, even as its value has dropped. Recently we’ve invested quite a bit in a brand new kitchen, the most obvious sign of our reconsolidation, a small act of renewal. This home, my mind, our lives; now in constant reshuffle. I keep bringing to the surface loosened memories, feeling keenly the distance from those simpler times.
A dream of words, I haven’t given it up quite yet. My timing is poor, as it has always been. But I have to try to find a rhythm of writing again, before everything changes.