Yeah.
I know. (raises eyebrows really high)
I appear to have unintentionally left myself a time capsule. It was a secret, even from me. As I have moved and traveled and passed through different phases of my life I have left various unpacked, partially unpacked, jumbled containers and boxes of cards, postcards, ticket stubs, letters, art supplies, journals and sketchpads in various stages of use, decorations, photographs, blank postcards, books, magazines and the general debris of life at my folks house. I have also moved some of these boxes with me to some locations, some cities.
Right now I am unpacking a box that I thought was art supplies. Clearly this container was packed, moved with, un and then repacked several times between 2002 and 2005. I have a habit of dating things to the second.
This is my format: 11/20/20 16:39.19.
It's just as pretty as lace to me, all those specific numbers in a line. So as I unpack these boxes, flip through these journals, inspect art supplies, I know exactly what part of my life these item are from. It's like a time stamp.
That's why I love saving ticket stubs. It's a time stamp.
You know exactly when and where you were doing what. It's so easy to use these time stamps as a way to trigger a wealth of other memories, colors, lighting, smells, faces, feelings, sounds, flavors all waterfalling back like a busted open pin~ata.
It's interesting to me that all our devices now do this for us automatically.
I think this proves that I am part robot (from the future).
The other part is clearly mermaid.
I am so enjoying all the unexpected surprises and discoveries. And I really am making myself purge.
More on my methods soon, they're fairly philosophical, overly intellectualized might be a better description...
First I am going to walk the dags in the remaining slivers of sunlight.
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