A beautiful, thought-provoking observation. I still have my floppy disks and even the old 5.5-inch diskettes, along with the computers and drives that went with them, in a box in the attic. Sometimes I imagine what archaeologists would feel if they unearthed my collections. They are materialized bridges to the networks of my past lives.
Recently, I've been busy disposing of over 10,000 slides from the life of an 85-year-old Capuchin friar. Almost all of them have lost their color, but they are the last links to his travels to Jerusalem, Rome, and the mission territories of the last century. They were also the basis for hundreds of lectures he gave.
He is just as much a collector of memories and a keeper of the past as I am. Perhaps I should secretly bury them in the monastery garden at night and hope for enthusiastic archaeologists of the future. After all, their final resting place could be a museum.
A beautiful, thought-provoking observation. I still have my floppy disks and even the old 5.5-inch diskettes, along with the computers and drives that went with them, in a box in the attic. Sometimes I imagine what archaeologists would feel if they unearthed my collections. They are materialized bridges to the networks of my past lives.
Recently, I've been busy disposing of over 10,000 slides from the life of an 85-year-old Capuchin friar. Almost all of them have lost their color, but they are the last links to his travels to Jerusalem, Rome, and the mission territories of the last century. They were also the basis for hundreds of lectures he gave.
He is just as much a collector of memories and a keeper of the past as I am. Perhaps I should secretly bury them in the monastery garden at night and hope for enthusiastic archaeologists of the future. After all, their final resting place could be a museum.