Something is taking up a shitload of space on my hard disk (this is a constant battle, really) and a couple of days ago I decided to poke around to see what was hogging the space. Turns out one of the biggest culprits is a folder with a whole bunch of crap that MS Office installed there and didn’t remove after I de-installed it years ago. So that went into the circular file.
Space Hog #2, however, was a folder that had some artsy-shmartzy stuff in it from more than 7 or 8 years ago. Gigantic Photoshop files! I didn’t forget that I had this stuff, but I hadn’t really looked at it for years. And it’s an interesting drive down memory lane. Back then I contributed to a digital magazine called This is not a Homepage (tinah) and if I remember this correctly, I had stuff in the first three issues. It looks like they went on until issue 9 – I’d have to check with them as see if the magazine is still active.
There are also other things in that folder, unfinished projects (mostly photo manipulation), writings, quotes, mysterious html files of unknown purpose that just show a green space, project outlines… – that went unto the external drive.
Thinking about actual boxes, I also have a box filled with old diaries going back to…pfff…probably the mid-1990s? That’s a fucking long time. And I haven looked at those for a really long time, either. Partly by choice, following a file-and-forget philosophy, but also because I’m maybe a little intimidated. I wrote A LOT back then. Now I’ve more or less stopped keeping a personal diary and mostly write here.
Of course that’s not completely the same. But I’m also not the same person anymore, either, so what gives?
Well, okay, I’m also a little reluctant to read things I wrote as a teenager. Although…maybe I’ll poke around a little in that box over the weekend.
Back then I also had a couple of pen pals (how quaint!) and I really regret not having made copies of my letters so that I’d have a complete record of the correspondence. Mind you, this was before anyone really used email, so writing letters was the only alternative to talking on the phone. I liked writing and getting letters. Too bad that’s not common anymore. Anyway, those are in a box somewhere, too.
Funny how these artifacts of life accumulate…