Continuing from a previous post, I am going through all of my books and documenting what I find hidden in the pages. I remove each item, photograph them, and return them to the book. (Except for the candy wrappers. I don’t think I need to keep those any longer.) It started because I found some safety pins in a book. And then some club flyers in my copy of Annotated Joyce. And I began to wonder what else I would find. Who was I when I read those books? What was I doing at the time? Who were my friends? Some of those places have closed. Some of those names I don’t remember anymore. Some of those people I’m not friends anymore. But even if we don’t talk anymore, they still existed, they still formed a part of me, just like the books I keep.
So looking over this collection of items, I’ve got a lot of plane and public transit tickets, some club flyers, some bookmarks, and some museum tidbits. I used to travel a lot more when I was still considered dependent on my father. For my dad’s work, at the time, the rule was, under 25 was considered dependent, even if you lived in your own place and had a job. What a lovely time for me. Able to fly cross-country just for a party. Those days are long gone. If I have to take muni to get to a party, it’s iffy I’ll make it. I’m just used to walking everywhere, and my life has grown a bit insular as my flight benefits are non-existent and I’m living in one of the most expensive cities.