Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Now I Remember

I've been thinking about how a memory is a creation of now and how I am always reinventing new versions of the past, adding new layers to the version I created before. Archives remove the need to remember in much the same way as a photograph has been said to become memory.

I dream in series.

J. wants one of those new hard drives that store memory in terabytes. Imagine how much a terabyte can hold. Imagine how much you would be able to forget. A thought that is as comforting as it is sinister.

I am fascinated by the ability of the internet to telescope time. When I come upon an online project, it is being performed as I interact with it. Archives make me a part of a conversation that already occurred and is occurring the moment the page loads.

Much is made of the impermanence of the website - the shock of the error page when a site is taken down and effectively erased from cyberspace. Deleted. But, the opposite is also happening. Old information, images, sounds, are hidden in dispersed pockets of the web, recovered from the hard drives of second hand terminals.

The last image taken from the first webcam:

Trojan Room Coffee Machine


Post a Comment

<< Home