virtual memorials for inanimate objects
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Blue Bird Brooch
When my father's paternal grandmother passed away, each of her great-grandchildren (there were 5 of us at the time) received a gift bought with money "from" her. I don't know what my two male cousins got, but my brother was given a dog clock (with moving eyes), my sister received a necklace (as far as Mum can remember), and I was given (supposedly, as I was very young and have no recollection of the said item) a name-bar brooch with a blue bird on it. I do not even know if it was engraved. I can only suppose it may have been lost when we moved shortly after I turned 4.
Last seen (but not by me!) 1966-69 (at a rough guess), between Bayswater and East Kew, Victoria.
Judith Martin, Victoria, Australia
When my father's paternal grandmother passed away, each of her great-grandchildren (there were 5 of us at the time) received a gift bought with money "from" her. I don't know what my two male cousins got, but my brother was given a dog clock (with moving eyes), my sister received a necklace (as far as Mum can remember), and I was given (supposedly, as I was very young and have no recollection of the said item) a name-bar brooch with a blue bird on it. I do not even know if it was engraved. I can only suppose it may have been lost when we moved shortly after I turned 4.
Last seen (but not by me!) 1966-69 (at a rough guess), between Bayswater and East Kew, Victoria.
Judith Martin, Victoria, Australia
Labels: Australia, childhood, family, loss, move
¶ 12:12 PM 0 Comments Links to this post
Sunday, March 11, 2007
White T-Shirt
An extremely dirty white t-shirt with my band's logo on it. Somewhere between washing, drying, and bringing my clothes back with me, I lost my favorite shirt.
Last seen at the laundromat.
Bill, Wilton, CT
An extremely dirty white t-shirt with my band's logo on it. Somewhere between washing, drying, and bringing my clothes back with me, I lost my favorite shirt.
Last seen at the laundromat.
Bill, Wilton, CT
Labels: band logo, Connecticut, laundromat, loss, t-shirt, Wilton
¶ 4:00 PM 0 Comments Links to this post
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Briefcase
When I graduated from college, my grandfather insisted I have a briefcase. His gift was incredibly sweet and thoughtful but I never had much use for a briefcase, especially such a traditional style. I kept the briefcase for a few years, but when I was getting ready to move from California to Boston, the briefcase joined the garage-sized pile of other objects I had to trash, sell, or give away. The briefcase was donated, among many other things, to the Salvation Army, where I hoped it would make its way to someone who would actually have use for it. That was almost two years ago. My grandfather died recently and all I can think about is that briefcase.
I'm interested in the irrational affection we feel towards inanimate objects as well as the narrative and meaning that get attached to this otherwise mundane stuff over time, thanks to who we got the object from, or who we were with when we purchased or found it, what our life was like at the time, what it's like now, and where we've been in between, all of which is carried on in the object, regardless of whether it still exists or not. Creating a virtual memorial for my lost briefcase is the least I can do to honor my grandfather's gift, while, to some extent, confessing my guilt over getting rid of it.
Last seen August, 2005, in Oakland, California
Becky writes from Boston, where she spends a lot of time mulling over the way we deal with memory, loss, technology, and community.
When I graduated from college, my grandfather insisted I have a briefcase. His gift was incredibly sweet and thoughtful but I never had much use for a briefcase, especially such a traditional style. I kept the briefcase for a few years, but when I was getting ready to move from California to Boston, the briefcase joined the garage-sized pile of other objects I had to trash, sell, or give away. The briefcase was donated, among many other things, to the Salvation Army, where I hoped it would make its way to someone who would actually have use for it. That was almost two years ago. My grandfather died recently and all I can think about is that briefcase.
I'm interested in the irrational affection we feel towards inanimate objects as well as the narrative and meaning that get attached to this otherwise mundane stuff over time, thanks to who we got the object from, or who we were with when we purchased or found it, what our life was like at the time, what it's like now, and where we've been in between, all of which is carried on in the object, regardless of whether it still exists or not. Creating a virtual memorial for my lost briefcase is the least I can do to honor my grandfather's gift, while, to some extent, confessing my guilt over getting rid of it.
Last seen August, 2005, in Oakland, California
Becky writes from Boston, where she spends a lot of time mulling over the way we deal with memory, loss, technology, and community.
Labels: briefcase, California, gift, grandfather, loss, move, Oakland
¶ 3:44 PM 1 Comments Links to this post
