When I’m in some place I want to remember, I usually pick something from that place and put it in my bag. Idea came from a novel where main character, the old man, tells his life story by taking out the stones that marked his life.
A few days ago, I opened some boxes filled with my old stuff, stored in basement. Digging through them I found some small items that should have been thrown a long time ago, unsuitable thoughts in last pages of notebooks, small boxes with even smaller things...