In defense of the tangible
We are from the stars. Long before you and me, the stars embraced one another with such intense pressure that the universe as we know it was sparked into existence. Every little element making up life was born then and we carry it inside of us at this very moment. These thoughts never fail to startle me into wonderment.
I begin with that astronomical musing to arrive at a rain soaked poetry book I found while walking my little Truffles. Another victim of a move or a spontaneous whittling down of materialistic possessions, or perhaps a sad relic of a heartbreak, however it found itself lying on the bottom of a box with large ‘FREE’ written on the side matters not. It was soaking in Portland’s first real fall downpour.
Books withstand so much. They endure hate and engrossing love equally well. Books survive and wear proudly the coffee rings we burn into them on drowsy mornings. This poetry book survived love, survived being forgotten, and did not seem to mind the heavy raindrops soaking through the 500 or so brittle pages.
I brought it home with me feeling extra fortunate to experience the pleasure of those crinkling pages once they’ve dried. Too impatient, I opened it and found delicate notes in pearl like cursive between the lines of poetry.
That’s when I thought about the stars. The writing, like the tail of a comet, lingers leaving a little trail before disintegrating back into the universe. These sweet little tangible marks will fade in time. In their short existence, they are unspeakably beautiful. So much of our lives take place in front of our glowing screens, sending thoughts (such as this) into the webbed atmosphere crowded with other thoughts. These words won’t linger on a fading, aromatic page, won’t soak in a September rain, and won’t be rescued by a stranger.
I suppose it is simply a different medium, different art form. But I do mourn the loss of the tangible. I mourn that we are robbed from being able to scribble with freshly sharpened pencil between the lines of a poem.
I am not advocating for a radical relinquishing of technological advancements. I appreciate the tools I have today that were not available for me twenty years ago. I think I am only advocating that if you are walking by a rain soaked book, you allow yourself to fall in love, and appreciate the faint trails left by another planetary body before it fades back into the universe.
