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Posts tagged with memory

Mnemosyne's River

“Eddie Kang: In the middle of, 2013 (mixed media on canvas)” / Gallery Ihn / Art Basel Hong Kong 2013 / SML.20130523.6D.13996.SQ“Eddie Kang: In the middle of, 2013 (mixed media on canvas)” / Gallery Ihn / Art Basel Hong Kong 2013 / SML.20130523.6D.13996.SQ by See-ming Lee (SML) (cc by-nc)

Don't forget to remember to check out Wolfdog's fascinating post on augmenting long-term memory, featuring an essay on personal memory systems by Michael Nielsen.

08/18/18
by taz

Corelle stories

Butterfly Gold Corelle VintageButterfly Gold Corelle Vintage by Vintage19Something (cc by)

Did your family have Corelle dishes? "All those memories in the little things like cups and place mats and jelly jars."

Curious Virgo

NYC Subway 80sNYC Subway 80s by Olivier Nade (cc by-nc)

What was it like to be alive on September 15, 1985? "from the mundane to the profound, what do you remember about that time?"

09/16/15
by taz

On journaling

GRCA 20819 Powell Expedition JournalGRCA 20819 Powell Expedition Journal by Grand Canyon NPS (cc by)

I am no longer simply the kid who wrote those things, did those things. I am that person with years, layers of experience and judgement added to the mix. Something like looking into the mirror, but your image doesn't behave the way you'd like it to behave. Anyhow, my memory needed to be tweaked, and I'm glad I did it.

Several things stand out. I was shocked to see things (written there) that I thought I'd never forget, but had. Also, some of the memories I carried never happened to me--they were things someone else told me, and I had internalized them. More subtle slippage, in that sometimes I wrote several page of bullshit--not lies, just circumscriptions, soldierly evasions, using standard war-story phrases--while trying to say something, and that something never quite made the trip from my mind to the paper. Yet thirty years later I could see between the lines. I know what I couldn't say then. It it truly wierd how we are able to store little packets of reality without knowing it, and when the right stimulus comes along, all the little itches and aromas, textures and sensations waft up to command the senses, like a fugue, if you please.

Mostly, though, when I read that journal I was surprised, as if I were seeing the kid who wrote it in person for the first time. All these years I'd thought him to be an asshole, but looking back at him now, he wasn't all that bad, just young, and without much of a perspective with which to deal with the impossible things he was witnessing. Doing. He was better at his job than I remember.

02/03/13
by jessamyn

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