Old Stories

Connecting old hard drives to explore old files is a strange thing. Old images, projects and text files present an interesting snapshot of who you once was, who you still are and, perhaps, who you will become. There is a certain irony to being against data collection whilst avidly collecting and keeping all kinds of data about oneself. Yet I feel these traces of the past need to be stuck there, on these dusty old hard drives I keep in my closet. This is not a matter of physical space, perhaps it is mental space? Old memories remain through these drives instead of synapses. It is possible to relive them if I should want to. Otherwise, they do not exist. In that case, are they still memories if I don't remember them?

Autumn 2010