See, this is the thing about returning to a place where once before great and grand things happened to you: it's never the same. Even though realistically you realize that it can't be a repeat, most likely not even close, there is some perverse part of you that hopes...that wishes...that longs for it to happen again. Or, on a lesser level, you are stupidly reminded at every street corner and every cafe of things you wish to forget.
Or, to be more honest, people you wish to forget.
But here is how I try to function around the gaping hole, the purposely-blocked off trails of thought, the "closed- do not enter" paths of memory: I try to the best of my ability, with the desperation of a drowning man dragging for air, to create new Great and Grand Memories. It's a crude coping method. It doesn't deal with the problem, it masks it- BUT...it works. Of course they are tinged with the past, but not full-blown coloured. And c'est la vie, time eventually works its magic, and before you know it, you've moved on.
I am going to Canmore, AB, this weekend. Canmore, in the past year, has grown so many intensely layered memories for me that I have my pick of which ones to use, and which to ignore. It is a luxury I am rarely afforded, and I won't let it go to waste: this weekend I will create a vibrant bunch of even more images and snippets of conversation to add to the abundant harvest.
On a side note, this week I received the news that I was accepted into not only the art history course in Rome this August, but I got into the archaeological dig in Greece that I was hoping against hope I could go on. It's in June this summer, and so my life is now a little brighter: even though I have been to Europe many times before, this is different. This is travel with a foot in the real world- education. I am not sure how I will afford it, but talk of money is for plebes, haha.
"But here is how I try to function around the gaping hole, the purposely-blocked off trails of thought, the "closed- do not enter" paths of memory: I try to the best of my ability, with the desperation of a drowning man dragging for air, to create new Great and Grand Memories."
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of brilliantly putting words together...
This is beautiful. In the most immaculate and yet straightforward sense of the word. Simple, understandable, poetic, lyrical. And yet the innate truth of it is not lost. I do this myself. There's a great sadness associated with visiting old stomping grounds, knowing that the Good Old Days have long since gone. Best thing to do is try to make a bunch of new ones, as you do. Crude? Perhaps. Effective? Occasionally. Better than nothing? By far.
Have fun in Canmore. And congratulations on getting in on that dig in Greece. You MUST relate something of that on here, I insist.
And you are only 20? You have a beautiful, wise soul. Love the writing, too.
ReplyDeleteI've been told that creating new memories is a great method of moving on and I agree that it works to some degree. But sometimes, right when I think that I have been making a considerable progress, that perverse part of me shows up and sticks a needle in my arm...A concoction made of Hope, Longing, Regret and Weakness is immediately spreading into my system.
Sometimes memories are like drugs. I guess "New Great and Grand Memories" could be the name of the rehab center.
Enjoy your journey and learning time in Europe.
Laura, I completely understand. It seems to be that just when you think you have come the farthest that it hits you in the gut like a sucker-punch. Or, sometimes I just give in and let myself succumb to the: "concoction made of Hope, Longing, Regret and Weakness", because as bad for you as it is, it sure tastes good at first.
ReplyDeleteGlad to have you stop by!