It’s month 6 of quarantine and I’m writing to you from Colorful Colorado (also known as the state where it snowed last week and was 95 out today). Climate change? Maybe. International conspiracy by the Greek God Zeus to make me miss Pasadena and Caltech more than I already do? Most definitely.
Anyways, I’ve been up to a lot this summer. I’ll be posting more updates and reflection posts as time moves on, but we’re finally fully operational on the new Caltech blog! In fact, I’m currently writing this post in Dillinger.io, an online tool that lets me preview markdown files as I write them. But beyond that, I’ve been hanging out with long lost friends from high school, and, most importantly, takingn time to relax and recover before our next term starts next week.
As one of my main photography projects this summer I’ve been hanging out with my favorite twins, Ryan and Reagan. For our great photography project we’ve been going to all the places we have bad memories of and shooting funny pictures. First up in this was actually the place we met, Mountain Vista High School.
Now, you’re probably thinking to yourself, but Andrew, you went to Littleton High School. You would very much be correct, but that doesn’t mean that I, much like many Colorado natives, do not have bad memories associated with Vista. High school in and of itself feels more and more like a fever dream these days.
First up, of course, an ode to Moby Dick, the book I re-read for Caltech’s Herman Melville class.A truly great story of an attachment that could never be, and the man who lost his life because of.
Next, a real-time picture of how I looked after taking the state-mandated standardized testing every single year.
We didn’t stop at Vista though, we also took the time to go to Civic Green Park. Another pinnacle of Highlands Ranch locations that everyone seems to remember poorly for one reason or another. My story will be left as an exercise to the reader.
At the end of the day though, what I think these photos have proved to me is that no matter how bad some memories are, they can always be re-written. Places are but objects that we project are emotions unto.
And on that thought, I’ll sign off until next time.
“Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become who you were meant to be”