Posted on June 7, 2019
“Every hour, Robert thinks, all over the globe, an infinite number of memories disappear, whole glowing atlases dragged into graves. But during that same hour children are moving about, surveying territory that seems to them entirely new. They push back the darkness; they scatter memories behind them like bread crumbs. The world is remade.”
~ Anthony Doerr
Posted on November 1, 2018
“Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. If you can bend space you can bend time also, and if you knew enough and could move faster than light you could travel backwards in time and exist in two places at once.
It was my brother Stephen who told me that, when he wore his raveling maroon sweater to study in and spent a lot of time standing on his head so that the blood would run down into his brain and nourish it. I didn’t understand what he meant, but maybe he didn’t explain it very well. He was already moving away from the imprecision of words.
But I began then to think of time as having a shape, something you could see, like a series of liquid transparencies, one laid on top of another. You don’t look back along time but down through it, like water. Sometimes this comes to the surface, sometimes that, sometimes nothing. Nothing goes away.”
~ Margaret Atwood
Posted on August 19, 2016
(and it’s not over just yet)
“You must know that there is nothing higher and stronger and more wholesome and good for life in the future than some good memory, especially a memory of childhood, of home. People talk to you a great deal about your education, but some good, sacred memory, preserved from childhood, is perhaps the best education. If a man carries many such memories with him into life, he is safe to the end of his days, and if one has only one good memory left in one’s heart, even that may sometime be the means of saving us.”
~ Fyodor Dostoevsky
Posted on September 22, 2014
Posted on September 17, 2014
Perhaps the World Ends Here
~ Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
This poem really got me thinking just how much life goes on around a kitchen table…some of my fondest memories growing up in my parent’s kitchen and now here in my own home. I’ve been trying to think of a photo project to work on this year and I think this just may be it – “Around the Kitchen Table” With fall coming on and the days getting shorter (and colder), I think this could be fun.
And another photo project just came my way over the weekend. I’ve been invited to be a regular contributor on one of my favorite photography sites – MONOCHROMIA. I’m very excited to be part of this fantastic team of photographers and look forward to learning a lot from them. I will be posting over there every Sunday and I hope you will stop by and say hello!
And lastly, if you would like the recipe for the delicious Pumpkin Donut Muffins here on my kitchen table, click HERE