Two activities I enjoy engaging in are writing notes on random objects and taking on sporadic cleaning/organizing chores. I write things and forget about them. Later, on a cleaning whim, I discover lost thoughts. This method is more enjoyable than always knowing what I think.
Today I began cleaning the drawer next to my bed. Amongst the hundred or so notes on paper scraps, 3 x 5s, envelopes, and bar coasters, I found a friend's voice.
My friend John died last year, but he left bits of himself on pieces of paper, many of which I am happy to have, like little breadcrumbs leading back to his smirk.
Here's what I found: an article he printed off for me on 8 January 2008, entitled "Prehistoric Mold Found in Denver Sewer." The article describes a giant mold which likes to live in pipes (reminding it of what 250 million years ago I can only guess). I remember him showing me the article, excitedly speculating on the life of giant molds. Below the article in his handwriting is what he thought the mold should be called: "Brian the Bryozoan."