Yesterday, in an effort to promote my new site and get some work, I did something I very rarely do: I emailed everyone in my address book. Out of some three hundred or so email addresses, about a fifth of them bounced as undeliverable, which is fairly normal as people swap email addresses all the time, and the probability that an adress from five years ago or more will still be valid is fairly low. Still, a large number of mails reached people that I hadn’t spoken to in a long time, and many of them responded with questions, comments or news of their lives. I love the randomness of who responded and in what manner. They were as varied as a friend from high school, people I have met on my travels, former colleagues, and distant relations. And just like that, we (re)collect pieces of our past, and reconnect with something, whether a time or place or memory. I am most fascinated by the nature of the act of reaching out to everyone (even if in a somewhat mundane way of looking for work), because some of the most amazing things come from the random and the unexpected. The intersections present in those moments of receiving contact, the particulars of each person (their humor or mood, whether they are in a rush or relaxing) all contribute to possible responses or none at all. And out of the past, something new and different is created in the present.