What is a Memory?

Photo on 2013-02-09 at 09.59

Memories, what are these things?
How do they work?
Are they the same for everyone?
I think that the act of the memory may be the same but if it’s activated differently then it would only make sense that remembering would be different for everyone.
I am an artist, as I have mentioned before. My particular obversion is detailed. The angle that a cup sits on a table. The way B’s hand nearly covered his glass when he held it. I can still see him sitting in his chair, one leg extremely extended out the other bent at the knee and foot slightly under his chair. One arm stretches across the cherrywood table while the other was bent back of the chair. B did not sit in a chair he possessed it.
I remember how it felt when I held him so tight in bed. I wanted to melt through his skin so I could be closer. So because of details, my mind is filled and the memories devour me. B had the most beautiful ears, and the curve of his chin and how his beard felt to the touch. His lips would almost melt when he kissed with love.
For myself, I don’t think anniversary days make that much of a difference but seeing his monumental sculptures does. We got together when he painted the 40′ mural in a hospital. Marble sculptures were our trip to Yugoslavia etc.

My trip to Newfoundland was about creating new memories. Also trying to envision a continued life on my own. I’ll have to wait to see how that works out.  The ocean became my lover, my confidant. Is that why I want to go back?

The pressures of letting go are always with me.  I often pretend that I am further healed then I am. It just makes things easier, no explaining, no making excuses for sleeping long hours. I just feel that it takes time to let some memories fly off. Being together every day and working together for 32 years is going to take time.
This summer I will be starting to sort out our studio. Everything that my fingers touch will be loaded with memories. Mine and his. I don’t look forward to this summer. It will take me apart, but I know I have to do it. Possibly it will not be so difficult. Someone may offer to buy and that will give me the excitement needed.
If only memories left prints, then at least we could be warned of what to pick up and what to leave alone. I go till my stomach hurts or I feel light headed then I stop because what I don’t want to do is get rid of something because I’m tired.
Then again………why do i even.

Then again.


Why is it wrong to not want a life without him.