There's questions of intention in my work.
Last week, my laptop, with the majority of my research contained within it, was stolen from my flat.
Luckily I had contents insurance, and therefore now I am typing this on my lovely new replacement.
(It's pearly white, as opposed to my previous one which was black. I have since christened it: The Stig.)
Anyway.
We* live in a world defined by a logic of the binary. On or off. 1 or 0.
As such, we are commonly faced with the decision of either saving something, or not saving something.
This 'not saving' option also takes up a binary position. Do we actively 'delete' something, or do we passively 'forget' about it.
Have our computers taken that passive ability away from us however? Most of my application save things automatically, no intent needed on my part.
But then my laptop was stolen.
Various things had been backed up to the cloud, yes. But a lot wasn't. And as such a lot of faded away. Countless PDF's and notes, most of which I've now ironically forgotten.
Some of my work has all but been deleted, without my consent.
This is just a stream of consciousness now.
What is the difference between actively deleting and passively forgetting? Surely if we are aware of the passively forgetting, then it becomes active. We choose to forget. Therefore then, if we are not aware of the passive forgetting, how does it matter? What I don't know, I don't know.
Is there a 3rd way? A form of digital erasure that is neither active deletion or passive forgetting. Instead, an act of creative endeavour, that aims to not analyse what does not remain, but rather what does remain.
*Disclaimer: It is incredibly lazy to use the generic pronoun of 'we'. Who is we? Is the writer speaking on behalf of the reader? How is the writer aware of the nature of the reader?
I should really clarify that when I use 'we' in this article, I mean those (of us) who live in a world where digital interactions are quite prolific.
