Ten minutes ago, I was wading hip deep in my gmail, looking for a message from a friend from awhile back. I thought it was an email, a message that he had actually written. As I read this message and that, one after another, I started to suspect that the message had actually been delivered in person, bodily, a person in a place, speaking in a voice and a let me show you.
It was sort of like on Monday, when I was looking for a particular sweater, now that the weather is changing and perhaps sweaters are called for, or will be called for, on a regular basis. And I couldn't find it, which made me briefly panic. And then I remembered the other box of sweaters.
Except in this case, what I remembered was an afternoon at the end of the week a few years ago, when my friend came to my office to show me how he had made a little time-lapse video out of stills
--how he captured the stills using an intervalometer, a timer, and then how to edit them.
Now I remember it was a YouTube video, and I was searching for it in the wrong way--looking for a video about the timer, and not about the editing. Just as my memory was of an email and not of a Friday afternoon, a conversation with a person.
I found the sweater. I'll wear it later. And I found the video, too, although not the email, because it was never an email. But the emails I found--those reminded me of my friend, whom I haven't spoken to in awhile, and of a time when I used to make little movies, and the intense absorption in those projects, the surges of invention.
Here's to the video I hope to make over the next couple of weeks. Here's to memory, getting it wrong and then getting it right, and here's to what you find in between.