week41: 

 

If I think about my “inner archive”, then is this actually somewhat that is not tangible or concrete. Something, which does not has a material-related form, since it concerns an abstract structure.
With the attempt to find out, how this abstract structure, all these thoughts, are ordered, I noticed that all my memories, experiences, sensations of the past (sound, taste, smell, and haptic memories), visual stored images, feeling- and emotion memories are tied to specific experiences /events/adventures. 

An example: I open an old book, and smell the smell of the old paper, the dust, the leather, the printing ink, etc. Immediately I am thinking to my Grandpa's wall cupboard with thick, canny books. In my mind I see my grandpa, with bright white hair, going to the closet in the living room. He open it. In there are his personal belongings: a typewriter, its shaving things, the big keys of the church, goodies for us children and many books, notes and forms; everything carefully ordered. He takes the bag of goodies out, turns to me, and looks at me through his thick lenses, lays his head a little to one side and looks at me questioningly. I nod, grab into the bag, and take out one of the drops.

So my "inner archive" does not follow a chronological (example: annual rhythm) order, but consists of thousands of small and large memory spaces. This in turn contain a certain time, certain people, a certain action/activity in a certain place. All these memory spaces, or we can call them also knowledge spaces, exist next to each other and do not follow a incomprehensible order. All these memory spaces are indeed stored in my thinking, but I can not fetch it immediately. This means I need an impulse, an initiation, a motive that opens me certain memories and knowledge spaces, enlightened them. This will trigger a whole chain of associations, and numerous memory spaces pop up, one after another.

In the attempt, to describe on paper this above-mentioned train of thoughts in an objejective form, I developed the following images.

© Viktoria Gitzl

© Viktoria Gitzl

© Viktoria Gitzl