Time Capsules

luka

Moderator
I said on the Lea Valley thread the built environment is the locus of memory.
That sounded cool but it doesn't quite cover what I meant. What I was talking about is what the book UBIK brings out. How some of the constants in our lives, cars, trains, ticket machine, uniforms, graphic design, packaging, change in increments so that few things are more nostalgic than seeing something which is almost the same, performs the same function, but looks different.

The type of rubbish bins that were on your street in 1996 say.
 

luka

Moderator
It's very rare that we actively remember these little details so when we are confronted with them again in photographs or film the Proustian Rush is very powerful.
 

woops

is not like other people
I've promoted a few gigs and the overwhelming feeling, most of the time, is logistical issues and ensuing stress when things don't/can't get sorted.
Yes this exactly. But far from home and all the rest of it. I've done some promotion too and it can be incredibly tough. On the other hand, though, should everything fall into place by chance then you're the man.
 

catalog

Active member
Never read ubik, but I found a patch of wasteground on my old walk to work, which I renamed 'the garden of gethsamane'. You had to climb over a fence to get in at one side, or slip through a crack in another fence at the other side. It was the site of two massive tower blocks that had been bulldozed, and there were bits remaining. There was a lot of good graf and nice new trees popping out of the broken flagstones, but the thing that really made it was this extremely old bin, like you've not seen for years. Got loads of pics of that area actually, I was gonna get into it s bit more but I told someone at my work about it, and he said it's probably fenced off cos of asbestos, so I left it for a bit. But I wrote a thing o it and took a few pics.
 

luka

Moderator
I said on the Lea Valley thread the built environment is the locus of memory.
That sounded cool but it doesn't quite cover what I meant. What I was talking about is what the book UBIK brings out. How some of the constants in our lives, cars, trains, ticket machine, uniforms, graphic design, packaging, change in increments so that few things are more nostalgic than seeing something which is almost the same, performs the same function, but looks different.

The type of rubbish bins that were on your street in 1996 say.
This yellow rubbish bin for instance

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TrSTMuePmdo
 

Rudewhy

Member
How some of the constants in our lives, cars, trains, ticket machine, uniforms, graphic design, packaging, change in increments so that few things are more nostalgic than seeing something which is almost the same, performs the same function, but looks different.
 

luka

Moderator
I literally just posted a picture of that same train on the lea valley thread I was thinking the same thing
 

pattycakes_

Active member
version's NYC vid followed by luka's Stratford one is a nice juxtaposition. Just noticed the Trump tower in there. Double whammy!
 
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Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
TBH I had no idea Stratford even had a Trump Tower, but it's not a part of London I know well.
 

luka

Moderator
An assortment of things which serve to mark out and evoke an era;

Professional sportsmen and women. Any public figure to a degree, but the career of the sportsmen and sportswomen are both regular and evanescent by design, coinciding with the physical peak of strength and speed and stamina before fading away, if not cut short by injury or other accident. Those which vanish from public life after retirement are most evocative. Ruel Fox and so on.

Seeing them in the mind's eye we see the kit they wore and how that conformed subtly to the fashions and norms of the day. Perhaps we see the faces in the crowd, and we ourselves, as we were at that time. The small concerns our lives revolved around, the texture of our experience.

Shoes. Any clothes, but shoes before all else. It is shoes that mark out the eras of our lives. The ones which really fit the way we feel. Whether outgoing or looking inward, feeling fruity or feeling modest, eager to impress or go unnoticed. What we related to or yearned to be a part of, what cultures, lifestyles and values we sought to align ourselves with, what image of ourselves we wished to project.

We go through so many shoes throughout our lives that most of them are forgotten. We should remember them because they were loyal to usa true friends who never let us down. We took great solace from their company and strength. When we see them again in old photographs of ourselves the sight triggers something very deep within us, connects us, more than any other prompt, to the person we were back then. What we aspired to and what we feared. The shoes we wear in those old photographs can often unlock a huge feeling of tenderness and care for that earlier self. We could shed tears.

Intense friendships/love affairs. These are periods in which we become a composite creature, a symbiote, always located on this shared plane of discourse and affect and everything is intensified and accelerated by the sync. No thought or feeling which is not related to the other half, no act which does not refer to them.

How we can be so quickened by these relationships, determined to make ourselves into the their ideal, to be worthy of their devotion. This is the one great evolutionary principle in our lives. This is the source of self-overcoming. This applies equally or even more so in the case of unrequited love.

Jobs. Walking past the site of an old job can also take us back to who we were then, what life felt like then, the early mornings, the feeling in the chest we had, the anxiety and the frustration. It provides a constant for that entire period of employment. At this place, doing these things, between these times, always. We remember the spaces we walked through and occupied, some of the people we saw and interacted with. The ways we found to cope. It all comes back to us, the uniform, the pains and tensions in the body peculiar to that work and the set of postures and movements it demanded, the smells, where we would go for lunch, where we would drink after the day was over.

Station idents/advertisements/presenters. In the days when everybody watched television.

Places we lived. The home itself and how we moulded ourselves to it and it to us, but also the web we wove around it, the lines we traced out from it and back again. The route to work. The walk to the shops. The local landmarks. The secrets of the place, the places we found to hide nearby, to escape from other people. The small beauties we stumbled on and treasured. How it was connected to the city centre, by which train or bus routes, and how those facts altered our relationship with the city centre, which parts of it we frequented and how we moved through it. How it brought parts of the city into focus while erasing or obscuring other parts.

Drug use. eg 'My Cocaine Years' 'My Bukowski period.'

Defunct businesses/fallen empires. How, for instance, Blockbuster Video has become a symbol of obsolete technologies and superseded modes of life. The era of the newspaper is now nearing it's end and will soon be a symbol of what we have let behind. The image of unfolding a broadsheet at the breakfast table is already a period piece.

Political Leaders. While they never enjoy the support of even 50% of the country they still somehow set the tone, an image of who we are. This is as true of the resistance they inspire as the ways in which they are followed. Some become emblematic of their era, Blair, Clinton, Bush, Trump, perhaps even Major in his way. Others it is difficult to imagine ever having existed at all. Was Cameron real or a figment of our imaginations. Did we hallucinate Theresa May?

image.jpg
 
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luka

Moderator
An assortment of things which serve to mark out and evoke an era;

Professional sportsmen and women. Any public figure to a degree, but the career of the sportsmen and sportswomen are both regular and evanescent by design, coinciding with the physical peak of strength and speed and stamina before fading away, if not cut short by injury or other accident. Those which vanish from public life after retirement are most evocative. Ruel Fox and so on.

Seeing them in the mind's eye we see the kit they wore and how that conformed subtly to the fashions and norms of the day. Perhaps we see the faces in the crowd, and we ourselves, as we were at that time. The small concerns our lives revolved around, the texture of our experience.

Shoes. Any clothes, but shoes before all else. It is shoes that mark out the eras of our lives. The ones which really fit the way we feel. Whether outgoing or looking inward, feeling fruity or feeling modest, eager to impress or go unnoticed. What we related to or yearned to be a part of, what cultures, lifestyles and values we sought to align ourselves with, what image of ourselves we wished to project.

We go through so many shoes throughout our lives that most of them are forgotten. We should remember them because they were loyal to usa true friends who never let us down. We took great solace from their company and strength. When we see them again in old photographs of ourselves the sight triggers something very deep within us, connects us, more than any other prompt, to the person we were back then. What we aspired to and what we feared. The shoes we wear in those old photographs can often unlock a huge feeling of tenderness and care for that earlier self. We could shed tears.

Intense friendships/love affairs. These are periods in which we become a composite creature, a symbiote, always located on this shared plane of discourse and affect and everything is intensified and accelerated by the sync. No thought or feeling which is not related to the other half, no act which does not refer to them.

How we can be so quickened by these relationships, determined to make ourselves into the their ideal, to be worthy of their devotion. This is the one great evolutionary principle in our lives. This is the source of self-overcoming. This applies equally or even more so in the case of unrequited love.

Jobs. Walking past the site of an old job can also take us back to who we were then, what life felt like then, the early mornings, the feeling in the chest we had, the anxiety and the frustration. It provides a constant for that entire period of employment. At this place, doing these things, between these times, always. We remember the spaces we walked through and occupied, some of the people we saw and interacted with. The ways we found to cope. It all comes back to us, the uniform, the pains and tensions in the body peculiar to that work and the set of postures and movements it demanded, the smells, where we would go for lunch, where we would drink after the day was over.

Station idents/advertisements/presenters. In the days when everybody watched television.

Places we lived. The home itself and how we moulded ourselves to it and it to us, but also the web we wove around it, the lines we traced out from it and back again. The route to work. The walk to the shops. The local landmarks. The secrets of the place, the places we found to hide nearby, to escape from other people. The small beauties we stumbled on and treasured. How it was connected to the city centre, by which train or bus routes, and how those facts altered our relationship with the city centre, which parts of it we frequented and how we moved through it. How it brought parts of the city into focus while erasing or obscuring other parts.

Drug use. eg 'My Cocaine Years' 'My Bukowski period.'

Defunct businesses/fallen empires. How, for instance, Blockbuster Video has become a symbol of obsolete technologies and superseded modes of life. The era of the newspaper is now nearing it's end and will soon be a symbol of what we have let behind. The image of unfolding a broadsheet at the breakfast table is already a period piece.

Political Leaders. While they never enjoy the support of even 50% of the country they still somehow set the tone, an image of who we are. This is as true of the resistance they inspire as the ways in which they are followed. Some become emblematic of their era, Blair, Clinton, Bush, Trump, perhaps even Major in his way. Others it is difficult to imagine ever having existed at all. Was Cameron real or a figment of our imaginations. Did we hallucinate Theresa May?

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That's a really beautiful post Luke, you've made me cry.
Yeah thanks mate it's cos I was throwing out these blue Nikes I'd had for years and truly loved.
 
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