Friday, 22 March 2013
Life Recollections - Touchstones
I always remember my father telling me that he was very upset by Bob Dylan admitting that there was not too much deep meaning behind many of his songs. For a sensitive youth who lived and died by some of those words my father never quite got over the disappointment.
This story has stuck with me, and as I get older a feeling of disconnect and disappointment gets keener with my own touchstones. I can imbue things, keepsakes, and indeed memories of events with such heightened emotional content, that inevitably I end up disappointed when I compare my interior life with that of others.
In our lounge we have a framed Indian door pennant, bought over a decade ago for me from Portobello Road market by someone I love very much. I framed it in old gold and it sits like some ancient artifact above a door. Reunited again after years apart he had no memory of it, and that made me so sad for a while. I do know however the amount of water that has passed under our respective bridges over the years, but it crystallised for me the meaning that I can impart to things that others have no awareness of. If you want to live with only authentic emotion it goes with the territory that you will often be left a little out on your own.
He did however remember the relief of cold drinks on a warm day, and happiness at seeing a familiar face during a difficult time. I guess we all have different ways of remembering and I just need to hold onto that.