Ah-ha! So, there’s my glasses. I thought I left them in the hallway where you hung your coat…
But here they are, abandoned mid-thought as once recorded on a notepad.
Now it would be click, click, clickety-click.
Or click – and then you’re inside a cloud.
Accessed via your MacBook Air-
Because it’s invisible but omnipresent?
An impression?
Or expression?
Or a God…?
There’s a few Gods here too, in the material – but they’re small, around the same size as my glasses and my pre-digitalized thought recordings – and although my desktop, is, shall we say… busy, it’s also very neat.
Indeed, now that there’s clouds (or another myth of heaven) no one needs to have a messy desktop anymore.
Although that does mean that the virtual world is not as neat as one would hope.
In fact, it’s dirty.
Spammy.
Raw.
In fact, it’s full of meaty-clicky-clusterfuckers losing it between the folders, and wet pink clicks of schweinefleisch stinking out your white light fridge-
Or heaven-
Or Vienna, which isn’t kosher anymore.
In fact, if you close your eyes and then open your eyes this could be a version of London from eighty-two years previous.
Best to check its best before date, and put it in a cloud.
Susan Finlay is the Freud Museum’s new Writer-in-Residence. Over the next six months she will be using objects from Freud’s collection as associative prompts through which to write about her own, real and fictitious memories. She will produce a series of photographic and textual vignettes. Some of these will be featured on the blog, and some will be used as the basis for an alternative audio guide. The guide will be read by Sharon Kivland and Lara Pawson, and available to download as an MP3.
