Keeping myself up, thinking about synesthesia.
Right now I’m reading this book called Moonwalking With Einstein by Joshua Foer. It’s about a journalist that competes in the World Memory Championships and his journey towards understanding the art of memory. Apparently mnemonics used to be a legitimate, practiced, art and the Ancient Greeks prided themselves at it’s mastery. The book talks about applying an artificial synesthesia and creating a graphic image relating to whatever you’re trying to remember. You are then supposed to create memory palaces (your first home growing up, your favorite walk through the park) and place these graphic images in these palaces to remember 1000 random digits, or homer’s Iliad backwards..
So I’m trying to come up with blueprints for my palaces and I started thinking about all the places I lived. And in recalling the house I lived in my 3rd year of college I couldn’t remember the bottom floor at all. Like, nothing. And this scares me. I’m not the biggest visual thinker (I dream in ideas not images) but I can’t even jostle my thoughts to remember a space I spent so much time in. What kind of life am I living, and people did I surround myself with, that I can’t even remember a place I resided for 365 days?
It’s interesting how blazen the imprint of my first week of new york was compared to that entire third college year of nonexistence. Maybe I just need to record my thoughts better. Or maybe I just need to fill life up with places, people, obsessions & ideas worth remembering.
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