Nostalgia is a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for a return to some past period. You will use 50 speed film to explore people and places that evoke a sense of longing and memory. It is less sensitive to light, it has small grain that gives you a wide range of light values – like the softness of reminiscing. It produces sharp details like those within our memories.
You will shoot a roll of 50 ISO (24 or 36 exposures) to capture the memory you have of people or places. ½ of your roll should capture a sense of nostalgia you have for a person or people.
You will shoot a roll of 50 ISO (24 or 36 exposures) to capture the memory you have of people or places. ½ of your roll should capture a sense of nostalgia you have for a person or people.
- Capture the person from a unique point of view (getclose, look up/down) to explore how memory distorts things.
- How does the person become part of an environment, what is it that triggers your memory or longing? Is it a feature of theirs? A smell? A look?
- How will you capture someone who cannot be in your photo?
- Consider what is significant about this place, showcase that.
- Explore unusual points of view.
- How does your memory see the place?
- What could stand in for the actual place if you could not return there?
- How can you capture the unusual, beautiful, profound, longing quality of memory?
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Adding Memory
by Andrei Codrescu
The other day, a friend of mine was explaining how she had to move these pixels around her computer and had to add 20 megabytes of memory to handle the operation. I had the disquieting thought that all this memory she was adding had to come from somewhere. Maybe it was coming from me, because I couldn't remember a thing that day.
And then it became blindingly obvious: All the memory that everybody keeps adding to their computers comes from people. Nobody can remember a damn thing. Every time somebody adds some memory to their machine thousands of people forget everything they knew.
Americans are singularly devoid of memory these days. We don't remember where we came from, who raised us, when our wars used to be, what happened last year, last month or even last week. Schoolchildren remember practically nothing. I take the Greyhound bus every week and I swear half the people on there don't know where they got on or where they are supposed to get off.
The explanation is simple: Computer companies are stealing human memory to stuff their hard drives. Greyhound, I believe has some kind of contract with IBM to steal the memory of everyone riding the bus. They are probably connected by a cable or something: Every hundred miles, poof, another 500 megabytes get sucked out of the passengers' brains.
The computers' thirst for memory is bottomless; the more they suck the more they need. Eventually, we will all be walking around with a glazed look in our eyes, trying to figure out who it is we live with. Then we'll forget our names and addresses and we'll just be milling around trying to remember them. The only thing visible about us will be these cables sticking out of our behinds, feeding the scraps of our memory to Computer Central somewhere in oblivion, USA.
I think it's time for all these memory-sucking companies to start some kind of system to feed and shelter us when we forget how to eat, walk and sleep.
by Andrei Codrescu
The other day, a friend of mine was explaining how she had to move these pixels around her computer and had to add 20 megabytes of memory to handle the operation. I had the disquieting thought that all this memory she was adding had to come from somewhere. Maybe it was coming from me, because I couldn't remember a thing that day.
And then it became blindingly obvious: All the memory that everybody keeps adding to their computers comes from people. Nobody can remember a damn thing. Every time somebody adds some memory to their machine thousands of people forget everything they knew.
Americans are singularly devoid of memory these days. We don't remember where we came from, who raised us, when our wars used to be, what happened last year, last month or even last week. Schoolchildren remember practically nothing. I take the Greyhound bus every week and I swear half the people on there don't know where they got on or where they are supposed to get off.
The explanation is simple: Computer companies are stealing human memory to stuff their hard drives. Greyhound, I believe has some kind of contract with IBM to steal the memory of everyone riding the bus. They are probably connected by a cable or something: Every hundred miles, poof, another 500 megabytes get sucked out of the passengers' brains.
The computers' thirst for memory is bottomless; the more they suck the more they need. Eventually, we will all be walking around with a glazed look in our eyes, trying to figure out who it is we live with. Then we'll forget our names and addresses and we'll just be milling around trying to remember them. The only thing visible about us will be these cables sticking out of our behinds, feeding the scraps of our memory to Computer Central somewhere in oblivion, USA.
I think it's time for all these memory-sucking companies to start some kind of system to feed and shelter us when we forget how to eat, walk and sleep.