For as long as I can remember I’ve been obsessed with the idea of recording my existence.
I’ve always kept journals, mementos, and souvenirs throughout my entire life.
I’ve had this idea that I’ll really appreciate having all of these physical memories someday when I’m old and looking back on my experiences. I know that my brain can’t record everything that’s happening to me, so I’ve always wanted to make sure that I had a record to reference. I remember doing the same back when I was a child and we were living in a massive old victorian house. The home had been outfitted with central heating and cooling devices just before we moved in, so it had an interesting modern feel despite the ancient walls. I slept in a room that was in the attic, where I had access to a lot of the air ducts. As a kid, I remember thinking that the whole situation was so romantic as I sat in my creepy attic room surrounded by massive duct work. I also thought that the docs work provided a unique chance to leave my mark in the house for future generations. I would regularly write notes and journal entries on tiny pieces of paper and shove them into the massive air duct system. I figured, one day another little girl would be playing in the attic near the HVAC system and find all of my tiny recordings. In a way, we could connect to one another through the modern heating and cooling system in this historic home. Well, my recordings never made it to another little girl, because an HVAC technician got to them first. I’ll never forget how silly I felt when our heating and cooling specialist showed a bucket full of handwritten notes to my mom after locating them in the ductwork. Now, I keep my writing to myself.