The Urban Sherpa - a blog by Christopher DeWan

(sec fluctuat nec mergitur...)

Read Work and Other Essays, a collection of nonfiction by Christopher DeWan.

Structure from motion at equiluminance rating=2

"If I'd known we were gonna cast our feelings into words, I'd've memorized the Song of Solomon." - Miller's Crossing

Memories are painted on acidic paper and in fugitive colors: they fade over time, Del-Prete Chess so that things we once found beautiful might later disappoint us; things we cherished might fail to seem remarkable, till we can't remember what, exactly, we ever liked about them. Or disliked.

[Ask someone who is lonely what they miss: they miss a memory.]

The remembered thing, and the feelings evoked by the thing—once inseparably intertwined (like lovers)—begin to come apart. This is forgetting—because the thing, without the attached feeling, becomes an event only, not a memory. It signifies nothing.

So when we cling to a memory, we're clinging to a feeling, a feeling which we've tethered to an otherwise-insignificant event.

Sometimes we become so attached to that feeling—to the memory of the thing—that the thing itself, in all its original colors, is unrecognizable to us. We have assembled a set of points, put it in motion—and imagined a structure where there is none. We've created an optical illusion. And cling to it like a lover.

(Happy Valentine's Day.)


Peggy is a whore

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