The State of Nats #7: A memory library, as fractals
[Week of June 25, 2025]
Recommended music in the background, simple by coldbrew. This video of a version of the song is a delightful animation, might as well watch it. This is a bit of a lofi basic kit. I am basic this week.
Data
Eggs: 3
Writing session: 1
We should have a memory library
When I sit to think about it, not with worry but with strain and concentration, I realise I have no clear childhood memories. Certainly I remember a lot, but it is hard to remember in a linear way. There is no memory library to pull moments from years, eras, schools, and so everything is...
a squirly-wiggly-giggly mess...
a cone of worli-twirly-swerly icecream...
a twisted rainbow with death as a leprechaun at the end.
The strongest and foremost recall is of a feeling, and a series of images justify that feeling. My mind becomes a slurry of a singular emotion being validated by a few pictures that make it make sense. And I am wondering today if it were easier, even preferred, to have it in the form of logs; to tap into them with an index and be prepared for what is it that I could feel about them. It has brought forward a vital question to me, should I be writing my own memoir? Should I be journaling away from the daily grind to structured reflection of my life? And with no heirs to read a lone leather bound notebook that will attempt to capture my life, its only reader being me, in what way do I put this into a practise?
I have developed a lens of life that is detached from age, and aligned to phases. I see them as fractals. Like snowflakes, which are natural fractals and decidedly precious. Fractals are shapes that have detailed patterns to them no matter how far you zoom in. There are no repeats, and there is a pattern at all times. As the act of living is a linear current, on it are endless fractals, each detailing the measure of that space and time. A fractal here would include mental and physical states, emotional, relationships, our body's makeup, our cherished activities, every mood, everything us. And as all fractals do, quite like people, there are patterns to us.
So when I visualise a memory access system, instead of my hope of a dark academic styled library with infinite shelves, I have a microfiche like machine with a giant pattern that I can zoom in and out of.
A beautiful visual is the mandelbrot sequence. And here is a cool lo-fi radio of a person scanning docs for a microfiche.
Futhermore
A new vegetable basket delivery service has been adopted. On each Friday I will receive greens, vegetables, a small delicious loaf of bread and eggs. Their first basket brought us bitter gourds. Ru is excited.
My first 1000 piece puzzle is close to completion. The plan is to let it sit on my table for a week and them disassemble it.
Good advice tells me that I should be more active (or present at all) on Linkedin. I am disgruntled by it. In about 5 days I will be defeated.
Culture Consumed
It has been raining more, and our days begin with a mellow sun and an overcast sky. For the first time since my move here, I am feeling seasonal affective disorder. And as gloom is on the menu, I picked up A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. I am rather proud for picking this in June. To read it when I feel happy is a kick in the figurative giant nuts. To read it when depressed is akin to pouring gasoline on the raging fire of agony. This is perfect timing. Life demands a companion.
I am making a separate data column for gasps and tears from this book.
Stay weird,
Nats