this work starts to feel desperate, sometimes. i am making these artifacts, these objects that are some sort of evidence that something happened. this is a device that records a physical phenomenon that we have managed to figure out how to preserve. at times, it feels futile. what am i trying to preserve? what am i trying to capture? what am i afraid of losing?

i look at images i've made from places i'lkk never stand again, people i'll never meet again. can i have the same thoughts as i had there? am i recreating the same patterns in my head?

sometimes it feels like i'm taking the same picture, over and over again. by looking at a sheet of cut negatives, i can verify that they are things that happened at different times, under different circumstances; i can touch an object and convince myself that it's telling me something that my faulty memory could not hold.

that's only if i trust this machine. that's only if i trust this mental landscape i've set up for myself, one that acknowledges and accepts the existence of an external world that can operate without my intervention, that is capable of accepting queries from me and responding with appropriate output.

more often than not, lately, it feels as if that trust is breaking.

05 March 2017

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