It started with my thinking about the new summer mini-series, THE ASTRONAUT WIVES CLUB. I thought, “I’m really enjoying everything about this show. The fashion, the attention to details of the era… I should buy the book.”
I bought the book. Then I thought, “No one really buys books anymore. Not actual handheld-put-an-actual-bookmark-in-to-mark-your-spot books.”
Books in home libraries and on coffee tables and nightstands.
Insight into the character of a home and the people who occupy it, now relegated to a tablet, a Nook, a Kindle — hidden from view.
And what of photographs of family and friends that used to decorate walls
and line shelves in living rooms
or pepper end-tables and den shelves? Now everything is digital. Lives captured and floating in a virtual darkroom; seen only when the camera or computer or iPhone is turned on — or when shared on social media or in an email.
And what of letters?
Now life shared via a quick email, a few posted words, or a sound-bite on social media.
I began to think, “Everything tangible is disappearing from eye-view. How will we access a life once lived when the technology is turned off for the last time and passwords are forgotten?
How will we remember when everything that once held our memories is erased completely
and our homes are whited out?”
And I became sad for a loss I could not fathom.