I have several medium-sized cardboard boxes sitting around unopened from the last time I moved (about nine months ago).  They are nondescript and unlabeled.   Just strong, brown, plain boxes.  What they hold I do not remember.

If somebody put a gun to my head and said, “Tell me what’s in those boxes or you’ll die!” — well, I’d probably open them up and inform the inquisitive aggressor of the contents.  However, if the hypothetical gunman stopped me and insisted that I answer before looking, I would be without a clue:

“Books, perhaps?” I would stammer.  “Ok, which ones?” would be the response.  Again, I would draw a complete blank.

Clearly, I haven’t missed the utility of whatever lies in those cardboard caskets.

The only certainty is uncertainty; what they hold is — simultaneously — both valuable and worthless.  It will take observation to collapse it into a single truth.

I’m sure that the moment I open those boxes, I will be unable to live without whatever they contain.

In the beginning, god created the computer monitor.  The foreground glowed green; the background remained inky black.  And for a long while, that was the state of the world.  Then, in the mid 1990s, there was a great awakening. With the rise of the GUI, and particularly Windows 95, the world discovered and embraced full-screen, full-color, lush, vivid desktop backgrounds.

I change desktop wallpapers about as often as I change cell phones (i.e., rarely), so I have a reasonably clear recollection of my history, backgroundically speaking, for the past decade or so.

"Sierra by Moonlight" from Digital Blasphemy. My background circa 1999.

Our desktop backgrounds are windows into our soul.  They reflect our dreams for the future and our nostalgia for the past.  They show our desires and our triumphs.  They lurk as ever-present reminders of what we find appealing.

Porsche Carrera GT. My dream car and background circa 2003.

Some treat them as art.  Others use them to encourage relaxation or spur productivity.  A minority even recognize their potential for pranks, like the ol’ take-a-screenshot-and-remove-the-icons gag.

Solid black. It was a time of rudderless ennui, circa 2005.

What makes the perfect wallpaper?  After all, the image is seldom seen, as the efficient computer user will have every pixel of screen real estate covered by maximized windows.  I, for one, see my desktop background only while locking or unlocking my computer.  Should the image make it easy to see the desktop icons?  Should it look good stretched or cropped to the prevailing aspect ratio?  Should it exist at all?

Stanford from the air: a fairy-tale view via Microsoft Live Maps. My hopes, dreams, and identity during the period of use: March 2007 - June 2009.

I’ve taken a number of nature photos that I think would make good backgrounds, and yet… few of them evoke the emotional response that I find necessary for a compelling choice.  Notably, I can’t recall ever using a photo of people for a background.  Perhaps I don’t want to cover their faces with my windows?

Avalanche Lake in Glacier National Park. In use as background: June 2009 - present.

Our choices of desktop wallpapers are perhaps most closely related to our choices of profile photos on the various social networks.  The profile photos project how we wish the world to perceive us; the wallpapers project how we wish to see ourselves.  Proud fathers, adventurous rebels, stoic visionaries, drunken douches… all samples from the broad spectrum of possibilities.

So dream about that sports car, that island, that retirement.  Remind yourself about your spouse, your child, and your family.  Remember that trip, that dog, that crazy night.  Boost your concentration.   Be practical.  Be ridiculous. Be artistic.  Be rational.  There are no wrong answers.  Choose one and learn about yourself.