Last night, on reaching the end of writing this post, I felt myself full of anticipation – burgeoning with words yet to be written. This morning, as I sit here staring at the blank screen, the only thoughts that come to me is how indignantly angry I’ve been in recent years. I was browsing through my image folders where, like a digital scrapbook, I save bits and bobs found online.
Things that catch my eye, to be pulled out for a timely tweet or pithy commentary online. None of it seemed to match my mood of thoughtful contemplation and mundane pleasures. Scraps of righteous poetry or words of determined rebellion mix with memes and captioned cartoons that are the digital graffito of the invisible masses.
What was this collection I had accumulated over the past 7 years – my currently accessible folders only contain snippets downloaded since my return to Finland in early 2014* – and what was it telling me about myself, if I took a step back to consider the curatorial choices made as a synthesized whole?
Was there nothing there more reflective of my heart right now? Who was this person I had become – digitally speaking – over the past 7 years? Where are the snippets of art and design that used to catch my eye? When did everything I saved become a statement to be made or an opinion visualized?
Today’s writing is perhaps not flowing as freely or as smoothly as those manifesting in the recent series of blogposts; on the other hand, it might just be a more important line of thought on which to reflect. It has taken an hour to discover the screencap below, and I leave it here as I pause right now to stumble through this moment some more.
*Older collections online go back to April 2005