spots of time . . .
There are in our existence spots of time,
With which distinct preeminence retain
A renovating virtue . . .
Such moments, worthy of all gratitude,
Are scattered everywhere, taking their date
From our first childhood . . . (William Wordsworth, The Prelude)
I have always had a poor memory for my childhood, remembering only isolated, dreamy (or nightmarish) bits of certain events and people. Unless I am reminded, most details escape me. And I don't think it is because those moments are the "cotton wool" of memory, as Virginia Woolf calls it, the dull and fuzzy stuff that surrounds rare, extraordinary moments. When my family or friends tell me something I've forgotten, sometimes quite surprising bits spill forth: how my dad used to drill us with flash cards before breakfast, or how my mom okayed a beer party in our house when I was only a junior in high school.
On the one hand I embrace this gap of knowledge because it renders childhood a perpetual dream, as I believe we do experience it. On the other hand it's understandably frustrating when important pieces of one's past are simply missing.
Recently I've been reconnecting with friends from high school and earlier who are helping me fill in some of those gaps. I found a few photos that capture significant details: our vast house, my record collection and bedroom, above; 50s Day in 8th grade below (I'm on the far right in red, with Sally Russell, Barbara Marsden, and I think either Kim Jewell or Vinnie Tocco to my right. Bonnie Hawkins is seated, right-of-center, with glasses and red hair parted in the middle. Dave Poole (first kiss!) is top left in blue, and I think Tom Wisely, Dane LaChiusa, and Rich Harrison are above and next to him). And the last picture was taken in November of freshman year, when Bonnie introduced me to my first boyfriend (Brian Pearce) at Chris Lafler's going-away party.
With which distinct preeminence retain
A renovating virtue . . .
Such moments, worthy of all gratitude,
Are scattered everywhere, taking their date
From our first childhood . . . (William Wordsworth, The Prelude)
I have always had a poor memory for my childhood, remembering only isolated, dreamy (or nightmarish) bits of certain events and people. Unless I am reminded, most details escape me. And I don't think it is because those moments are the "cotton wool" of memory, as Virginia Woolf calls it, the dull and fuzzy stuff that surrounds rare, extraordinary moments. When my family or friends tell me something I've forgotten, sometimes quite surprising bits spill forth: how my dad used to drill us with flash cards before breakfast, or how my mom okayed a beer party in our house when I was only a junior in high school.
On the one hand I embrace this gap of knowledge because it renders childhood a perpetual dream, as I believe we do experience it. On the other hand it's understandably frustrating when important pieces of one's past are simply missing.
Recently I've been reconnecting with friends from high school and earlier who are helping me fill in some of those gaps. I found a few photos that capture significant details: our vast house, my record collection and bedroom, above; 50s Day in 8th grade below (I'm on the far right in red, with Sally Russell, Barbara Marsden, and I think either Kim Jewell or Vinnie Tocco to my right. Bonnie Hawkins is seated, right-of-center, with glasses and red hair parted in the middle. Dave Poole (first kiss!) is top left in blue, and I think Tom Wisely, Dane LaChiusa, and Rich Harrison are above and next to him). And the last picture was taken in November of freshman year, when Bonnie introduced me to my first boyfriend (Brian Pearce) at Chris Lafler's going-away party.
posted by Charlotte Deaver at 3/15/2006 09:46:00 AM
6 Comments:
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Perhaps it's a curse, but I remember every little bit from the past. I think if someone take a deep breath and take a look behind, just a little bunch of happy moments and joy, slipping like sand between our small fingers. The rest, who knows, that's why we (not me, but most of people) are too much in love with a certain idea from the past, they only remember the bright lights.
But it's great, if you can't remember, try to fill some spaces in your life puzzle. After all, we're all the same, tiny spots of a big puzzle.
That is a picture of you 70's kids dressed 50's style!? I couldn't for the life of me remember you wearing such a skirt, then I noticed another person in similar outfit, and finally, after being so perplexed when I noticed all those saddle shoes, it hit me - it was a "50's" dress-up day.
Exactly! (I did mention that above, but not as an actual caption.) And it was Bonnie who dressed me up, probably in her clothes. xo
What a great site, how do you build such a cool site, its excellent.
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