I want memorabilia.
I want paper records.
I want faded photos, sepia coloured and curling at the edges -
with long gone relatives.
I want tickets that meant something to someone, kept because they commemorated a special event.
I want faded flowers -
an old bouquet from an admirer or swain of decades ago. Someone who my gran or great gran cared for and cared enough to keep the memories.
I want memories you can touch and smell, the faded beauty of generations past.
I want to weave stories around the things left to us, fantastic stories to honour the paper history of our ancestors.
A computer screen of digital images doesn't do it for me.
I want to show my grandchildren letters wrapped up in faded silks.
I want to talk about my grandparents or their parents and show pictures of them.
I want to talk about the scandals as well as the romance.
For after all, where we came from made us who we are.
Poetry for Brigid Imbolc
The Lake Isle of Innisfree BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay a...
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I thought I'd have a little contest to lighten up the damp dark days we are having:) and also as a way of thanking you for the good thou...
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I am giving away the above yarn. There is over 300gm in the 2 skeins of Wollmeise you see before you. I've started a shawl, pattern i...
2 comments:
Me too. There are so many photos taken these days, but I'll bet fewer of them survive into the future than, say, those taken 30 years ago.
Yes, there's something so special about seeing and holding actual memorabilia from long ago, isn't there? Seeing a photo on a computer screen is not the same at all! It's much too impersonal.
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