Sunday, June 30, 2013
Saturday, June 29, 2013
you open them again, throwing fuel on a fire nearly out...
and so the healing must start again, a new ending process...
until we learn to let go and accept the past that's gone...
Friday, June 28, 2013
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
going for the smack dab in the middle point of view.... and different
camera angles, high, low, and in between for something a bit more
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
All taken with older equipment and just sitting in a box on DVDs I burned. It's good that these images are coming back out to find some use.
What bothers me though, is that I told my employer more than a decade ago that they should build an image/media library and build it up over time.
It's not like storage hasn't gotten cheaper and digital cameras too. In fact digital cameras are ubiquitous now. Staff could have built up quite a library by now.
It's been obvious for a long time that digital is here to stay, and that the web and mobile platforms will continue to grow.
There's no excuse to be stuck in analog thinking when it comes to media and presentation, or the dissemination of information for the purpose of public service and communication.
Yet, this is where many organizations are finding themselves, panicked as they try and catch up, and still not thinking ahead.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
His big revelation was that he's part of the last generation of analog accumulators. Books, records, CDs, DVDs, printed photos, etc., all this stuff adds up, and really is a burden. Most analog mementos only mean something to those holding on to time, it's the memories behind them that give them most of their value.
In the end, most of this still will end up at a thrift shop or in a landfill. That's the bottom line. And yet, he was lamenting the loss, and was even more troubled that Generation Text will be free from the burden of analog stuff.
The comments that followed his post showed that he's not alone. Maybe it's just me, but I see it as a freedom from being chained up to the past and to things, and that it's a good thing to get away from analog.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Journals of old poems, faded and torn with pages missing, all nearly forgotten. Found in old boxes and on the backs of shelves. I've been collecting them, and posting them in the form of a blog for my mother, it's her work and the postings are on her behalf. I'm more or less the unpaid help.
She was excited to get her work out for people to see when we first talked about it, but she probably doesn't remember that discussion today.
Her memory is fading, and rather quickly too. She has Dementia/Alzheimer's, which seems to run in the family, and it's starting to play havoc on her memory. It's not as bad as I've seen, but she's in the early stages.
This project has helped me in an odd way, getting to know my mother better on a deeper, more personal level, and to help me get ready for the eventual goodbye.
Thanks to this digital age and ebooks, my mom's dream of becoming a published poet has come true, though she can't really grasp that concept. To her the world is still analog and tactile, so unless you can touch something how can it exist? Odd thinking coming from a woman of faith.
This project has had a more profound impact on me than I expected, and it will continue to do so for a long long time. It's been a bit emotional, but has also given me a lot of strength, helped to keep me focused, and taught me that there's a healing aspect to technology that I'd never realized existed.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
she walks out from my memory
I knew her once when sleep would come
together in worlds of dreams we'd roam
She's waiting now, on her toes
in worlds of dreams, for me to go
Friday, June 14, 2013
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Monday, June 10, 2013
Sunday, June 9, 2013
it takes us.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
as do our memories
all to become dust in time
blown away by the winds
with scant a trace we were here
or that the events of our lives
all just changing shapes
in the realm of infinity