Sometimes, I'll catch a glimpse of myself passing a mirror and mourn the fact that nobody will ever remember me in this exact light, at this angle, at twenty-one, the age I'll look back upon with envy when I have gray hair and fat ankles.
This is where Instagram comes in and I can take a picture of myself, in this mirror, at this exact moment, and post it, and now everyone will remember this day at this time when I thought I looked pretty great. It's vanity, there's no way around it. But is it new?
The desire for control over one's image, the vain aspiration towards total immortality within the confines of rememberance. We're all born into the inevitability of death, but we want to be able to choose which words get carved into the headstone.
But, some people figure out how to do it, how to kill time. Isabella Stewart Gardner did it, in a bold and grand way, just as all the great artists do. Her curation of art and her curation of the self intersect. This site will look at this intersection, in hopes of connecting with the past through some ancient truth of human nature.