Like many of us that have been hung on blogotha, I realize we engage in seemingly pointless acts of computer capacity.
I’m referring to thangs like choosing your screensaver, or wallpaper. Personally, I’m the only one who views my own of that lot, and though I never had a deep interest in discovering all the possibilities, I seem to have ventured into changing some damn thang, every once in awhile.
Is it merely a self-constructing device? And even if you lethargically change these things, like I do, does something bring you to the point where you cease “devotion” to a particular image or theme?
The Confession (never to be construed with the late great Laura Nyro):
Sammy Sosa swinging a bat was my first “wallpaper” back in ’98.
I had no idea gwb had traded him, no idea of the ‘roid issues that would haunt the sport. As a native Chicagoan, I wuz bettin’ on him Jordanizing the sorry Cubs.
The next image was a picture of Daniel Pearl.An extremely handsome man, and a journalist risking for a big important story.The horror of his death, being beheaded while reciting his Jewish heritage. The horrible history of so many peoples being slaughtered for who they are.
That one hung around for a long time, and to my memory was replaced by an image of someone ice-fishing on New Year’s Eve, with the skyline of Moscow in the background, holiday-lit.
The Russians can even write without pens.
Nadja Anjuman came in there, somewhere. A twenty-five year old Afghanistan poet beaten to death by her husband.
Eventually replaced with Sarah Johnson, who I dubbed the “Madonna of Katrina” in some vast orange space.
Most recently, thanks to maryb2004, who posted a Maxfield Parrish painting I’d never seen, with a theme of setting out lanterns, I remembered hearing descriptions of how the losses of the most recent Indonesian tsunami were commemorated with a massive lantern launching.
And an image from that event is my current wallpaper.
How do you weave your private self into public history, entirely unbeknownst to others?