I wonder if it is possible to compose my biography solely through the objects that surround me. I wonder what kind of portrait this might present. Meaning so often gets stripped away the moment I am removed from the equation. It just won’t add up. Books and toys and trinkets and photos and small items rich with personal histories and consequence, unknown to anyone else. Must I annotate my office for the sake of posterity? It sounds like nonsense, but then. Twitter asks, what are you watching? I haven’t an answer.