it is sad to me how our hands are growing idle, losing the tangible intimacy of beloved objects...something about the way touch deepens connection; the soft rustling of pages, the familiar click of a VHS slotting in, the crisp snap of opening the dvd case — the small, tactile rituals that once made love and memory tangible are slowly fading into intangible echoes. there was a kind of reverence in the way we handled tapes and DVDs, how mindful we were of fingerprints, scratches, and dust. to lend a favorite VHS or cassette was an act of trust —Here. This is a piece of me. Take care of it.
now, everything is becoming instant, weightless, intangible, impersonal, and the saddest part is that by losing the delicate act of handling what we love, we also lose the proof that we ever held it at all.
