A place called memory


def: [merriam-webster]

1. :a simple object (such as a tool or weapon) that was made by people in the past

2. something created by humans usually for a practical purpose; especially :  an object remaining from a particular period <caves containing prehistoric artifacts>

My definition goes like this:

“man-made [material] objects produced within a given society over a given period of time and which represent a particular time in that society’s evolution”.

As society, we progress and advance and we carry with us our ‘materials’, our tools and devices that we use to perform the tasks necessary to live. There are some things we need on a daily basis like our cell phones, and all the other small accessories that have come to define the tech age of civilization. I like the  solar phone charger. There are numerous other new products out on the market and for one who lives in Kampala, if you want a phone with any type of feature, be assured you can find it here! We are indeed living in wonderful times. Speaking of ‘artifacts’, there will  always be the Sony Walkman. The turntable. The Panasonic mash stereo player with the super-woofers. Such stuff. I feel we are at a crossroads, like something is about to disappear from before my eyes while i am looking at it, still enjoying the look of it and savoring that look. Some images are disturbing to look away from. You see, as technology gives us more, it takes away what we  cherish so more than anything new life could ever give and i know there are folks who feel me on this.

We give up something in order to get a taste for  what gets served next. We give up what was familiar. It’s like losing a friend. We give up the joy of physically holding something, we give up memory. Texture. Contours. I myself need to find the wherewithal to collect some of the precious things from my past and hold those close before they disappear like a mirage before my very eyes! The good things have this tendency to disappear before one’s very eyes. Fellow nostalgics, be pleased to learn that i don’t want anything new immediately. I want to preserve the music and the iconography of it’s various genres/artists. In this new hormonal, utterly selfish, irresistible sudden urgent feeling, i am like a teen. I want the classic pin-ups on the walls-wrong;  i want one classic pin-up on the wall. Wrong i want all  my pin-up classics on one wall. Ugh. Bye y’all.