Most of us like to think of ourselves as individuals--the only me, wholly unique and unlike any other--but at the same time, we are remediations of DNA, personality traits and quirks, soundbites, galleries of images, inherited words, nutrients, imprints of sunrays, and quasi-shared experiences. While it's true that we will never know what anyone else is really thinking, how they really feel, who they really are (embrace this! it's what Nathaniel Hawthorne calls the "warm mysteriousness" between people), everything we do has been done before, in one way or another.
Looking at photos of myself, reading things I've written, even watching videos of myself, I am always struck by those small and sometimes not-so-small mutations that I've taken on.
My hair is a really good example of the constant process of remediation and "re"coming who I am today. A few years ago, I had bangs (oh bangs! for many, it is a contentious, extra-follicular topic). Since then, I've eschewed bangs for long layers. Why? Well I distinctly remember being captivated by Bettie Page and the 50's pinups. Before that, my coiffeture could only be described as voluminous. Very Bardot-inspired, I loved big curls, bouffants, and bows. And in high school, I had somehow managed to convince myself that a short bob/pixie-cut would look great on my very round face, um...no.
And yet, I remain the same person at the core. These reinventions of how I look and what I perceive looks good on me are informed by the cultures I am immersed in at the time, but not completely defined by them. I've chosen and taken what I'm attracted to, what I've found an affinity for from films, images, music, stories, etc. and made them a part of myself.
Everything we do is in a sense remediation. Some of it may not be obvious at first or even intentional, but we (re)interpret, remake, remember, reconfigure everything. I could burst into existential-flavored tears: I'm just a copy! I'm not an original, special person! Everything I do has already been done before, wahh!
But I won't.
Looking at photos of myself, reading things I've written, even watching videos of myself, I am always struck by those small and sometimes not-so-small mutations that I've taken on.
My hair is a really good example of the constant process of remediation and "re"coming who I am today. A few years ago, I had bangs (oh bangs! for many, it is a contentious, extra-follicular topic). Since then, I've eschewed bangs for long layers. Why? Well I distinctly remember being captivated by Bettie Page and the 50's pinups. Before that, my coiffeture could only be described as voluminous. Very Bardot-inspired, I loved big curls, bouffants, and bows. And in high school, I had somehow managed to convince myself that a short bob/pixie-cut would look great on my very round face, um...no.
And yet, I remain the same person at the core. These reinventions of how I look and what I perceive looks good on me are informed by the cultures I am immersed in at the time, but not completely defined by them. I've chosen and taken what I'm attracted to, what I've found an affinity for from films, images, music, stories, etc. and made them a part of myself.
Everything we do is in a sense remediation. Some of it may not be obvious at first or even intentional, but we (re)interpret, remake, remember, reconfigure everything. I could burst into existential-flavored tears: I'm just a copy! I'm not an original, special person! Everything I do has already been done before, wahh!
But I won't.