Most things we write come out of a moment of enthusiasm
They say a photo is worth a thousand words. I’m inclined to believe that, all the photos I have on my wall could easily have 1000 word essays attached to them. There’s the photos of me age 4 sitting on a tree stump in the back garden we had then. The photo of my mum when she was 14 but looked 20. The two photos of Annie, my godmother who I haven’t seen for years because she disliked my mother getting remarried. My little sister occupies a fair few of my photos. A group photo with all my paternal family. A family portrait of my aunt, uncle and their eldest two children. Modelling photos of my cousin and I, my paternal aunt and her son. Postcards in German, artworks of Venice collected in Europe on little cards, artistic engineering blueprints, photos of cars. All of these images have stories attached memories to remember and tangents to be explored. I want to get more though, I have so many photos of friends and family that sit on my hard drive gathering dust… They make me smile at the memories, the crazy times I spent with people and while we never did anything stupid, it feels good knowing that I got to have a few pure teenage moments. Some of them make me cry too, some of them tear at my heart and make my soul scream in a tortuous dark wail that will never truly be silenced. And that’s ok, I’d feel cheated if I did not have those. The important part is to find a balance for the tortured wails and the beautiful smiles. Finding a place where the pain is accepted and understood and thus can be left alone and not be the predominate dictator all the time. It still hurts like hell, it’s raw and burns like someone pressed a clothes iron onto it whenever you get reminded and you aren’t prepared. Some object or place, or a photo or a letter kept buried in some dark box, coming to light unexpectedly and with blunt honestly. These are the times when it’s hard to remember those smiles, the water fights, the kisses, the Kinder Surprises, the teddy bears, the beautiful secrets, the blue paint.
Here’s a list of some other things that might provoke a smile, a memory or a hope, that I dug up in one of those boxes I was talking about.
With peace, happiness, love, respect, hope and humility,