We've moved in to the house I grew up in, and my bedroom never got cleaned out before I went to college. So, I spent most of the day yesterday cleaning out all of my old stuff. In the process, I basically re-lived my life from about age 8 to 18 in a matter of hours. It was wonderful and very strange—I feel very distanced from the boy/young man I used to be in many ways, though it was revealing for me to recall my former passions, thoughts, and attitudes as I skimmed through journals, notes, drawings and photos, among other things. I also listened to some old cds—some mid-90s grunge bands, as well as some demos my friend and I made (eek).

One common thread that was weaving through my mind yesterday was how much we are simply the sum of our experiences—even when we don't remember our past, we are significantly shaped by it. Maybe this is glaringly obvious. But for me, it has some implications on the idea of originality. It makes me wonder how original anyone really can be—or if we really are just the sum (albeit somewhat deconstructed and rearranged) of all the things that we've taken in. Maybe that's not really a problem, since we all take in different things in different ways. Ultimately, I'm re-evaluating the importance of originality in art, music, life, etc.

This color journal, however, is apparently a manifestation of my at least decade-long interest in color. Also, for what it's worth, I do think my former self would be quite pleased with what he's doing in 2008.