Initially, I set out to develop an intimate, physical connection with the piece of Physarum polycephalum I was given ...
It's only at this point that I am reminded that this slime
mould came from a community much larger than the one I provided.
This community expanded more and more with each moment of its life.
Navigating on a wet dish, meeting some microbes and dodging others.
We already know this slime mould was actively forming memories, but
what moments remained the most memorable? If what we know of memories
is that they are always fleeting, changing, what had its first memories
become by the end of its life? In stumbling upon a paper written by
Andrew Adamatzky, I've learned that the slime mould we've been working
with prefers Valerian root, an herbal sedative, over standard oats.
If a slime mould is especially drawn to a sleeping aid, is it too wishful
to consider they might dream as well? Or rather, do they prefer sedatives
to quiet their thoughts as a middle aged, blue-collar man prefers a cocktail
after getting home from work?
I often feel my memories ignite through the
dreams I have. Dazing off as I consider the consciousness of slime moulds
I find comfort in imagining how my companion's dreams might look.
