I've been writing in my journal (which I've, again, been trying to do more frequently) about some old memories that have resurfaced like a surprise attack after fading into the folds of my cortex for a while. And instead of observing more in the world around me like I said I was going to do, I've turned toward my memories, observing the subjects of those dusty old photographs.
The brain is a tricky thing, if you ask me, and sort of warps the picture on the negatives through time. To try and dig back into childhood memories, for example, is like piecing together a quilt of reality, experience, haze, the stories told about the experience, and on...it's not laid plain. I've been thinking on this manipulation the brain performs. Writing about the memories could truly be frustrating, since I'll never be able to remember in accurate, clear detail. Instead of bringing trial, though, it's been fun to re-tell the stories again through another lens (tricks from the brain included) and paint a new emotion or highlight a hiding piece...practice, exciting practice.
I'll try to be more observant still in my daily life around me, but for now it's fun to play with the old negatives in my brain...
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