What is it to make a memory except to take notice of the everyday.
Thanks for the Memory
Category: Memory
From The Bottom Of My Pencil Case
I left school thirty years ago. Thrown on life’s waves – that’s how I looked upon it. It was a fracture, something daunting, a major life change to be survived rather than to be relished. At least that’s how I think I felt, memory does play funny tricks on the truth. I loved school; I … Continue reading From The Bottom Of My Pencil Case
Happiness Writes White
I had never heard the phrase before and then (how does this happen?) I came across it again within twenty-four hours. ‘Happiness writes white,’ he said. ‘When I am content, I have no inspiration. Ease causes the muse to fly.’ I didn’t want to believe it, that one needs to be tortured in order to … Continue reading Happiness Writes White
Strolling With Ghosts
Yesterday, my friend and I walked the land around Ireland’s oldest linen fabric mill, Clarks of Upperlands, in Mid-Ulster. A section of it is still working after 300 years, but much of it is disused and abandoned, but for a few dog walkers, quiet explorers like ourselves, and more than the odd ghost. We walked … Continue reading Strolling With Ghosts
Collection
Occasionally, in a charity shop, I will see what, clearly, has been someone’s life collection, and I will pause to nurse a couple of seconds of heartbreak that this is where it has ended up. Thimbles: I saw about sixty of those once, porcelain, in a wooden cabinet all divided into tiny squares, a home … Continue reading Collection
All Sorts of Trivial Stuff
We imagine that the things we have make us. All sorts of trivial stuff. Or at least I did, when I was younger. I thought I would only become a responsible, functioning adult when I had a house filled with everything I needed and more besides. And I spent years accumulating; accumulating things I thought … Continue reading All Sorts of Trivial Stuff
Close Your Eyes and Go
The majority of planes are grounded and the sight of a contrail ribboning the sky (I’ve always thought them beautiful) has become noteworthy. I turned my car engine over yesterday and revved it; car-physio, is what I’m calling this monthly, one-minute resuscitation. I’m not sure it will make any difference, it’s probably as effective as … Continue reading Close Your Eyes and Go
Those Are The Pearls That Were His Eyes
Who else is organising the contents of neglected boxes and cavernous cupboards, putting order on disregarded bookshelves and dusty sheds? I’m sure I’m not the only one, it is what people do when they have time on their hands. We call it ‘sorting out’ or ‘tidying up’. We give it a simple label that belies … Continue reading Those Are The Pearls That Were His Eyes
Watching Silence
One of the things I like about writing in the late afternoon or evening is that the light drops without me noticing it. One minute – at least that’s how it seems – the sun is low but up, and the next thing I know, beyond the glow of my computer screen, is that the … Continue reading Watching Silence
That Horrid Time
I lay in bed last night listening to the news and thinking about the horrid days around us. This sent my mind spinning back to other times (which were mostly moments) that were I thought were horrid and would scar me forever; whereas now they’re like half remembered films where I can visualise certain scenes, … Continue reading That Horrid Time
