is clear: us the information we collect on our hard drive .
The not delete. The one that lasts longer .
That amount of folders full of files that we create in our minds virtual and end up being our diary.
Our box of belongings.
Our voices black box.
All this accumulation of elements that defines us.
Each computer is a guardian of our subjectivity. Of our ways of relating to the world.
Does not it is called "personal computer ?
is not difficult to realize that every hard disk has style. In its way, the regulations and classifications by we choose daily are building a facility.
also a lab (test site).
thoughts turn to the Voyager space probes or the Pioneer surfing the galaxy, rather distant places, carrying gold records an edition of treasures of mankind. Our computer also is a storehouse of valuable information for each one of us (in his own way an autobiography other data) to refurbish the day. Finally
a hacker (or rather, a cracker ) is not only a plunderer of our stories (Of the elements that constitute it.)
course, for many centuries the stories of the world was so much less. Many.
Too many less? Think
as detailed in the journal Mr. Samuel Pepys, in the late seventeenth century (an outpost of the stories of intimacy).
Consider also the dynamics of the literary salons . clubs in nineteenth-century English gentlemen (Terry Eagleton the institutes as the nucleus of what we call critical ). Voices
too lonely, too unique, too private.
Even then multiplied voices like an avalanche. We
absorbing more and more and more voices.
Do most blame is demography? Does literacy? Does the press? Do museums? Are the mass media? Does the Internet?
is a fact: each generation of artists has to live with more and more stories available (at some time enough for him a handful of myths). Information sharing: narrative. The beautiful
documentary It Might Get Loud, Davis Guggenheim of , hear the voice of Jack White sentence: "You must unite the family. You must be part of it. Family of storytellers. (...) People get ideas and new tricks to tell the same story differently. We all do the same. We seek to share something with another human being . "
Both were written in recent years about the self as spectacle on the horizon of Web 2.0 and their cultures . But the truth is that every artist has to live hour by hour with so many stories that will affect his already impossible to proceed without entrenched in the earthquake unstoppable voices.
As surely as everyone chooses the voices you want to hear (read, see). Voices and images say say (Fixed, moveable) . Between stories and narratives and stories and more stories.
Each Fotolog is a narrative, each Flickr it is also every blog and every new release of Buzz . Even the videos themselves that got on Youtube or Vimeo (or any other similar platform). Stories that have a lot of daily batch of photos and random moments.
We talked much about the subject days ago in the city of Rosario in the meeting organized by Favorite Sister.
Elsewhere in the film, Jack White talks about his devotion to discovery and the bluesman Son House . " I identified a thousand ways. I did not know that was possible. Just sing and clap. It meant everything. (...) One man against the world in song. I heard everything disappeared. It did not matter to clap out of time. No matter that did not have instruments. All that mattered was the attitude of the song . " U
No artist is a voice, a set of images, words, sounds, objects . A set of objects such as those set forth in a showcase Inne Monoambiente Martino. You're seeing a wall of my house, Pam Passage of Rosario. Books, records, statements. Forms.
(Some images of this blog posting are your , and the last is Virginia Negri).
That is the question. told with what we have, just as that which accumulated almost without realizing it defines us, and at all times speak for us .
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