I visited the Guggenheim Museum in New York in 1982 to see a Kandinsky exhibition. But it was the architecture of the museum which struck a deep chord. I was with a friend, going round the show at different speeds, and it was looking down to see where she was that it suddenly struck me: this building is a metaphor for life. I was looking back at where I had been; even my friend was part of my past: she was a colleague from my previous job.
It was even clear that as one progresses, the perspective looking back changes. Not everything can be seen clearly. Recently, presently, I have been using the spiral to look back. For instance, in trying to clarify how to move on with my work, I am first looking back at what I have done to get here in my work blog.
Last year I interrupted my flow of work to look back in a different way. I had reached a point where there are now memories that only I have, and I have photographs of people who are now only known to me, so I decided to put together a book for my great niece explaining who all these folks are, their characters, and how they are related to each other and to her. I also included anecdotes, some of which were illustrated by the photographs.
A book of photos with text is so much easier to dip into than a box full of snaps - or even a photo album. So much more than simple, or even lengthy captions can be put into the text of a book. Photobox was having a sale last autumn, so I took the opportunity.
I so regret not asking more questions of all my relations when I was young, especially as both my grandmothers' generation had lived through so much history - the wars, the migrations, etc., and so many changes. I wanted to do a little bit to pass on my own memories of individuals and incidents, so that perhaps the youngsters would be prompted to ask me further questions while I am still around and capable of answering!
Wow, Olga, the book is an awesome idea. I will have to keep it in mind for any future grandchildren.
ReplyDeleteSandy, I'm certainly glad that I did it. My great niece is too young as yet, but her father is enjoying the book in the meantime.
DeleteI too, regret not asking more questions Olga, my mother in particular - there is so much I understand now which I did not do when she was alive... So much I want to know and understand now that it's too late. It's something I think about a lot these days.
ReplyDeleteAs for the Guggenheim - absolutely. The museum steals the show.
Although I regret not asking, I do not worry about that now. Indeed, having produced the book now has helped me to focus my attention away from the past.
DeleteI started a similar project last year, but didn't get very far, only really covering one person. It took a lot of research and working through the documents and ephemera on hand and racking my brain to put it together for a cousin, but it got my juices going on how I could approach organizing what I have. I asked lots of questions when my mother was still alive but hubris led me to believe I'd remember all those stories without writing them down. That is what I regret. My two brothers have been dredging up memories between the two of them, not always having the same information about them and end up asking me for details as if I am the family historian and will be able to say who is right and who isn't or have on the tip of my tongue the piece of information that they are sure will clear all this up. It's been quite amusing! It's also been interesting to hear their take on events we all were witness to, but years apart in age so interpreted differently. The more they bring up, the more I wish my parents had been more forthcoming about their lives before they met and even some parts of their married lives. They lived through the depression and parts of both world wars. Actually, can't blame them much for not wanting to talk about the hardships but it sure would round things out for us kids.
ReplyDeleteIn many ways I think that we are too interested in ourselves when young to ask for information and clarification of the old folks. We need to be adults to be experienced enough in the ways of the world to be able to discuss events of our parents' youth.
DeleteI was extremely lucky in many ways by living in two so separate cultures - as they were then - as an only child. I was sat on the sofa as a small child in Greece while all around were telling my mother what had happened in the year since we last visited. But you are right: if it is not written down is drifts off beyond memory, or becomes distorted.
I so agree about different folks remembering the same incident in such a different way. Unbelievably so at times. I used to argue about it, but now realise that it's inevitable, and one just has to go with the flow, and to value one's own memories as just that - one's own.
Lovely response. So true how our perspective shifts with age and experience. My brothers (both quite a bit older than me) and I have mellowed with not as many "I'm right, you're wrong" conversations as there once were. It is good to see life from various perspectives - it enriches one's understanding of events and memories.
DeleteSheila, I have learned over the years to be interested rather than annoyed at different memories of the same incident. In general this has been helped by the improving quality of history books, factual as well as fiction. It's fascinating and appalling how many people have died and peoples have suffered over different takes on incidents.
Delete