Sunday, 13th November.
I spent yesterday evening migrating to a new phone.
(I lost my iPhone in a taxi a few weeks ago. Deep down I wanted to lose it. It was cursed by association.)
I bought it again because I liked the first one a lot. It was the first phone I’d owned with a vaguely decent camera, a voice recorder, substantial storage capacity, and the ability to talk to my computer. I captured a lot of audio and took a lot of pictures with it, and posted a lot of both here.
Thems were happy, phoenix-from-the-ashes times. Could Has Art. It was great.
There was a lot of acid around then. Maybe that was a factor. Who knows.
(The whole record-some-audio-take-a-picture blogging formula continued, in a more standardized way, through the subsequent winter via the MacBook I got when my eMac died, around the same time that Wouters – sick of hearing me whine about nasty text messages from J that I didn’t want to read – killed the aforementioned old Nokia by dropping it in a glass of bourbon & coke.
Different era, more complex & difficult, but in its own way equally good.
Then – in a seasonally trend-bucking turn of events – everything went to shit when Spring hit, and life stopped. Couldn’t Has Art.)
The phone died, but its memory card survived.
Going through all of that old media last night was reeaal interesting.
I think it’s time for some psychedelics.