So instead of doing more productive work, I spent a long time today revamping my homepage. This page is, of course, where most of the important stuff is, but that one is the beginning of my public face. And so now it looks all pretty-like, and it has tons of links in-text, but not around the text. (Before, it was all messed up in internet explorer too, and hopefully that's true no longer.) I also put some pictures from 2003 up on my flickr page (you can see them on the badge on the side of this one too) and it's making me nostalgic.
You know, I used to hate the word "nostalgia" so much I could not say it. It came with a nasty taste and smell in my associative understanding (like nausea, probably). The concept has become so important to my thinking that I've had to get over most of my linguistic discomfort, but some still lingers. I think that's good, really, because it makes me examine the pangs of memory any time I have them. What, precisely, inspires this longing tinged with sadness in me? Is it something I had, or wish I had? Is it someone I was or something I did? Who is it I long for when I look at a picture of myself from 2003 (when I was, in general, desperately unhappy) and feel wistful? These are good, healthful questions to ask myself, I think. Nostalgia is perhaps impossible without the sense of strong individuality expressed by something like flickr or this web page. It's always good to realize that and investigate it.
You know, I used to hate the word "nostalgia" so much I could not say it. It came with a nasty taste and smell in my associative understanding (like nausea, probably). The concept has become so important to my thinking that I've had to get over most of my linguistic discomfort, but some still lingers. I think that's good, really, because it makes me examine the pangs of memory any time I have them. What, precisely, inspires this longing tinged with sadness in me? Is it something I had, or wish I had? Is it someone I was or something I did? Who is it I long for when I look at a picture of myself from 2003 (when I was, in general, desperately unhappy) and feel wistful? These are good, healthful questions to ask myself, I think. Nostalgia is perhaps impossible without the sense of strong individuality expressed by something like flickr or this web page. It's always good to realize that and investigate it.
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