I love archives
not just visual ones, but archives in general. In a sense, it’s a love of nostalgia.. but it’s a nostalgia for a past that I didn’t know. A past that I SO wanted to be a part of, but am also half grateful that I get to visually experience and imaginatively reminisce about the beautiful things, people, events, fashions, styles, and aesthetics of the past. I also love archives because it’s a collective of so many wonderful things together, almost hiding or even completely obliterating any kind of blemish or disenchanting aspect about any one small thing or event and just surrounding everything with a halo of “wowww.” I can never choose favorites. My heart is always falling in love with something new. Some might call it a commitment issue. Maybe I just have more space in my heart to love more things. Whatever my condition, I love groups, collectives of memories, people, places, cultures, interests AH IT MAKES ME SO GIDDY. Somehow, the group becomes the representative, and I temporarily forget the inconveniences or tragic events of that time or group. It’s not necessarily good because we must remember the bad to change for the better. However, I have to chock all this out to a deeper longing that I have had since the day I was born: for an eternal home where everyone — past and present — is surrounded by everything good, everything beautiful. And I don’t mean beautiful in merely a visual sense, although I’m sure it’d be a sight to see — one beyond comprehension or imagination. But so beautiful that it redefines the word and all our connotations with it. I’m longing for that place where we’ll all be together. And there’ll be no pain, no regrets, no tragic events. Just the purest, simplest form of what everyone and everything should be — pure is perfect. Pure is beautiful. Pure is simple. Pure is real. Purity is lost as soon as we see it in this world, but then again, it’s not this world that I’m waiting for.
