Aside

They tell me…

“I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away”. 

Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley.

They tell me that this is the time of Now. The future hasn’t happened yet and the past is done with. If you embrace the Now, then you never have to worry, because what can you do in the Present except live it, one moment at a time? Well thats grand, and I am happy for them. I guess on a daily basis I tend to subscribe to that philosophy. However, as I get older, I find that I am more fascinated with the events of the past and how they have affected the regular person on the street.

First, I do admit I was a history major, but I left that all behind me (excuse the pun), to pursue a career in IT, and to move first from Ireland to France, then to London, eventually to end up here in San Francisco. I am raising a very busy family in the delightful enclave of Tiburon, over the Golden Gate Bridge, a world away from the Ha’Penny Bridge for sure. Nonetheless you know you have a bit of an obsession when you choose to spend your well earned vacation in libraries, museums, and archival institutions instead of lounging at the side of the pool sipping a Mai Tai like most normal people. You see, I like to troll through petitions, legal documents, ancient texts, census papers and you name it, if it smells dank and musty, I’m your girl. I love to piece together stories from newspapers that haven’t even been read for two hundred years, to know what happened to people whose names have long been forgotten or cared for. This is my place to put all of these pieces together.

“Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”

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