This morning the lake was black and grey glass, an occasional bubble breaking the surface.The only sounds the bellbirds and tui above me. As I sat there I was trying to absorb the peace into every corner of my mind, a truly lovely way to start a day.
Some years ago I was lying in a hospital bed, recovering from a major operation , not really caring whether I was even still alive .What kept me anchored to life (apart from my amazing husband and kids) was that I found that I could flick though memories like turning the pages of a photo album. As I lay there , full of tubes, I could cast my mind back through images of family holidays , doing silly stuff together, sea and sand , walks in the beech forest near Wellington, the earth smell of the beech litter after rain, the misty fingers of rain on my face , the way cold , winter Wellington sand feels when you sit there eating fish and chips. Each memory of smell, touch , taste , sound and sight rolled through my head and kept me firmly attached to life. It had never occurred to me before how important memories are - and that you never know when you might need to draw on them.
I realise that this is the prime reason that I paint - I want to capture the way something looks and even smells to me. If I can pass that on to others to jiggle their memories then I've succeeded.
Wouldn't it be sad if you were in a bad place in your life and the only thing that you could recall was the annoying earworm TV ad or a FB "how smart are you" post?
Make regular deposits to your memory bank - take time to store those images away somewhere safe, and remember to let yourself browse through and enjoy them.
Some years ago I was lying in a hospital bed, recovering from a major operation , not really caring whether I was even still alive .What kept me anchored to life (apart from my amazing husband and kids) was that I found that I could flick though memories like turning the pages of a photo album. As I lay there , full of tubes, I could cast my mind back through images of family holidays , doing silly stuff together, sea and sand , walks in the beech forest near Wellington, the earth smell of the beech litter after rain, the misty fingers of rain on my face , the way cold , winter Wellington sand feels when you sit there eating fish and chips. Each memory of smell, touch , taste , sound and sight rolled through my head and kept me firmly attached to life. It had never occurred to me before how important memories are - and that you never know when you might need to draw on them.
I realise that this is the prime reason that I paint - I want to capture the way something looks and even smells to me. If I can pass that on to others to jiggle their memories then I've succeeded.
Wouldn't it be sad if you were in a bad place in your life and the only thing that you could recall was the annoying earworm TV ad or a FB "how smart are you" post?
Make regular deposits to your memory bank - take time to store those images away somewhere safe, and remember to let yourself browse through and enjoy them.
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