lissa1212 wrote:
I had a phone call with a client today (I'm a freelance writer) and the client recorded it so I could have something to reference when writing my article. But listening to the file she made was painful to say the least.
Starting the first time I ever heard my own recorded voice played back to me, on my Dad's first Compact Cassette recorder in the early 1970s, I marveled at how much it "didn't sound like me". I later heard that "everyone" thinks that way, so discounted this as "normal".
Adding the element of video in the 1980s to what I sounded like further astonished me at how different I seemed than what I had imagined I did, and I didn't like what I saw/heard. As technology has progressed further into the ability and in some cases "need" to regularly encounter the outer you, sometimes on a daily basis, I have wondered how people cope with this, as I don't feel any closer to connecting to what I see and hear than I used to.
I'm currently kind of obsessed about wanting to rewatch the Super-8 home movies that my Dad made of me and my (probably) NT younger brother, shot in the 1970s. There's a VHS dub of the movie film around somewhere in deep storage, probably being urinated on by pack rats at this very moment, and the original silent movie film still exists too, at my parents' new home in Florida, though I'm pretty sure that the projector is now long gone (easily replaced, of course). And I'm pretty sure that the film is all Kodachrome, which is renowned for a
very long stable storage life, compared to other color positive films.
It was fascinating to hear Tony Attwood (renowned autism expert) describing the moment of realization that his 20-something son was very likely autistic, upon watching some old home video of the boy.
Darron
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Darron, temporary Desert Rat