Monday, February 10, 2014
Irrelevant soundtracks to my life
Sight and sound may not be as messily entangled with the memory archive as the senses of taste and smell are (oh look, Dave's read another book about the brain and thinks he's a neurosurgeon now), but many people will have experienced that pleasurable or traumatic jolt when a song they haven't heard for many years takes them back to a certain night or specific moment.
Pleasurable for the bored woman in a dead-end office job hearing a vintage hit on the radio and being pulled back in time to her first festival in carefree times; traumatic for the sole survivor of a creepy enchanted doll's murderous rampage who's finally got her life back together when the song on the radio fuzzes out and that chilling music box ditty fills the room, foreboding her imminent slaying. Proust's auditory madeleine is an emotional pick-n-mix, to be sure.
Back when I was travelling nearly-non-stop for almost three years (did I ever talk about that?), most of my days out were solo excursions, but I kept myself company and staved off boredom when wandering around another bloody temple by listening to audiobooks, podcasts and out-of-date radio shows piped into my ears at acceptable sound quality by a succession of cheap, non-mainstream MP3 players. If you've ever looked at any of my photos from those days out, you may have been irked by the space-saving image quality I opted for or eyed up another 'copyright-free' wallpaper for your shit website where you don't even label things properly, but you haven't had the full experience. My pictures work on more than just one level... they work on two! For me and only me, admittedly.
Since I'm doing this blog again for a little while, and my undiagnosed neurological disorders start flaring up if I don't keep a routine schedule, I've dug out and finished off a page I started last year but deemed too boring, pointless and self-involved for publication at the time, even by this blog's masturbatory standards. Proceed at your own risk.