The Elusive Happy Medium

Alanis is screaming in the background about irony.

Recently, we have taken to disposable cameras due to the tangible delight of reviewing developed pictures with terrible color and print quality. It has become an art. Ironic as we do have access to a digital camera.

There's always that thing where people are fascinated by what is not in fashion-- polaroids are expensive and not very practical when it comes to print quality but because of this people have come to associate polaroids with "good times to be had"-- a technique of storing memories that is different and therefore awesome and therefore makes the memories even more awesome.

Blogging and internet accessibilities have left the tangible senses of old traditions dusty, fading away in our memories. I have become more aware of the texture of a pen or pencil scratching across paper. The feel of a page covered in the small studs of black letters and the glue holding the book together. The slow grainy scrape of scissors cutting. Even the untangling of dollar bills becomes a new sensation after using credit cards is unfamiliar and new. I hestitate to grow up and find the world a strange place.

R&Y