Want to know what I think is really weird? I think it is really weird that my brain assigns random photographic images of real (or really close to real) spaces that I pass through or by in everyday life to material that I am reading or writing. What I mean is that I will be reading and I will realize that that specific article or book has attached to it, for no apparent reason a specific frozen view, one perspective, of the parking lot of the grocery store by my house. Why?
The spaces attached to the reading (or at times written) material are always unremarkable places I have merely passed through, for example: the place the bus waits before turning when taking me to the metro station- there is a long concrete wall there with some plants hanging over it and this view is paired with Ada by Vladimier Nabakov. Ben Piekut's new musicological study "Testing, Testing....New York Experimentalism 1964" gets different spaces assigned to different chapters, for instance Chapter 3, about Bill Dixon and the Jazz Composer's Guild, gets the odd grassy square between some of the block buildings here near Malovicka, but the other chapters received different, now forgotten associations.
It seems to me that I have always done this. The only characteristic thing about the associations is that they are always unremarkable spaces, usually spaces I am passing through regularly during the time I am reading the book (not while reading, but in the same day or so) and the other thing they have in common is that they are forgotten as soon as I leave the book. Why does the brain merge these things which have nothing in common. It is rather nice, for nostalgia's sake, yet it is very strange, don't you think?
The spaces attached to the reading (or at times written) material are always unremarkable places I have merely passed through, for example: the place the bus waits before turning when taking me to the metro station- there is a long concrete wall there with some plants hanging over it and this view is paired with Ada by Vladimier Nabakov. Ben Piekut's new musicological study "Testing, Testing....New York Experimentalism 1964" gets different spaces assigned to different chapters, for instance Chapter 3, about Bill Dixon and the Jazz Composer's Guild, gets the odd grassy square between some of the block buildings here near Malovicka, but the other chapters received different, now forgotten associations.
It seems to me that I have always done this. The only characteristic thing about the associations is that they are always unremarkable spaces, usually spaces I am passing through regularly during the time I am reading the book (not while reading, but in the same day or so) and the other thing they have in common is that they are forgotten as soon as I leave the book. Why does the brain merge these things which have nothing in common. It is rather nice, for nostalgia's sake, yet it is very strange, don't you think?