August 25, 2006 § Leave a comment
Old and forgotten faces are re-working themselves into my psyche. In words and photos and my own curiosity, a censored past shimmies right up to the parts of me that are most vulnerable, most prone to nostalgia, and stows away.
The appeal (and curse) of the technology flooding it all back into my mind is its manipulation of memory. The people who call out across the screen are not the ones I remember; their faults and difficulties are polished to a liquid-crystal sheen, their high definition edges conceal a brutal single dimensionality. There must have been a reason that this is re-discovery and smacks of that beast, re-kindling, but what could be better than hearing from an old friend?
The chains linking my memories to the life I lived grow a little less secure; the girl I was and the girl I wished I had been want to wear the same dress to the party.