๐ท๐ฒ๐Old Musician's Blog 22๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฝ
Everyone on the planet sooner or later works through their attachment to life, who they are, and what they represented. In the past it seemed appropriate to attempt to make a recording of those things that I was attached to in life so that consciously I wouldn't have to be so attached to them in the present. The seem to work to some extent. Writing down conversations and advanced has a form of journaling, writing my name in a guitar collection and then giving the guitars away, transcribing conversations some relevant and some not just because they have. I knew that many of these things would disappear in the fog of time and not have any Trace left behind that I could contact personally, while still believing that everything is recorded somewhere somehow sometime.
Now with these new technologies working with the same ideas I would take a picture create a video make a representation a recording of voice recording capture a piece of music take a picture of the sunrise and so form a memory that transfirst the barrier of time travel into the future. Why do this when reality is it's own recorder? The answer is to forgo the personal attachment to self, things, relationships, and situations.
It's easy to examine mortality when one doesn't feel very good. Perhaps that's the best time to examine these issues? As age chips away at ability and progression seeds to digression making recordings of a possible moment In Time can remember when the Mind does not. And so here is a hodgepodge of memory, a mixture of thought and feeling, a digression of attachment in a world of personal experience.
I wonder do most people have one or two grand themes that their lives are built around? I've noticed in some writers that I might have considered great that in many of their books they revisit a theme over and over again from different angles and considerations. Still at with seeing that even those amongst us without ambition to speak or record still have a theme to their lives. To you I toast.
Old Musician's Blog 21
Attention is the new currencyโบ๏ธ
each post is its own environment of commentaryโ๏ธ
Let's have a nutritious meal together๐
Conversation and exchange of ideas๐
๐ก๐ผ๐ผthank youโบ๏ธโฐโณ
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
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Well done, memes! I once had accumulated, one pocket notebook at a time, three thirty gallon trash bags full of thoughts, musings, descriptions, lists, plans (hopes), etc. I was living in Maine at the time. I was 61 or 62.
One day, I decided to let them go, my special treasures of recall, raw materials for novels, poems, stories, and so on. I was nervous about it, so I put them on the sidewalk a day ahead of trash collection so that I could change my mind at the last moment. I walked by the bags two or three times during the day. I could see corners of notebooks pushing out the dark green plastic. I went to bed and slept like a baby. They were gone in the morning. I never missed them. They had served their purpose.
Keep trucking (loosely). Have fun.
straightwalker
Straitwalker certainly in my file cabinet of creative detrice there is much that the trash man might like to get their hands on. Yet instead it may become a message in a bottle, a record in a satellite headed out of the solar system, and if it lives up in the landfill well that will be because of someone else's decision. Still what an irrevocable Act to watch the effort of years that has only been internalized in a way that can't be measured, take a drive down the shade line streets of Suburbia to its final destination. No retracing those steps my friend they lie cool and silent in their green plastic shroud.