There onwards came the 17-18th centuries “smuggling and espionage.” These smugglers buttons would be made of hollow metal with a screw-off feature. They were used to smuggle contraband, like opium, (we all know how this goes in the 19th century opium crisis)
To transport goods.
Notes from Underground, Fyodor Dostoevsky. Last year I delved into this one, and ever since, I’ve been craving just a taste more closer to this. Though, very little books have satiated this hunger.
In the 17th century, women and diplomatic spies used objects such as buttons to conceal every day messages, using invisible ink and artichoke juice to write ciphered letters to eachother. This method was called “letter locking,” where they folded papers to bypass the couriers.
Without photos, I just feel like they never existed. Years blurs into seconds until you can no longer trace each little word, every step, or feel their touch. The deprivation of senses causes psychosis, and maybe this is on par. That is, the deprivation of a person you’ve lost.
Mimicking the phrases of someone no longer in your life settles, and suddenly you begin to grieve once more. Though, grief doesn’t have to be sad. It could simply be the reminder they once existed in your life and for a moment in time, you were both completely, utterly, content.