Dear Photograph

Suppose time is a circle, bending back on itself. The world repeats itself, precisely, endlessly.

-Alan Lightman, Einstein's Dreams

This photo was taken on October 16, 2011. 

The photo in this photo was taken on May 3, 1998.

Same spot. Same angle. A decade's difference.

The cabinets, barometer, lights, picture frames are still where they used to be. The organ is now moved to a different spot; there are new shelves, books, photos and even new members in the house.

It's amazing how in just a single click a moment is captured and kept for years or a lifetime. They'd even make very lovely gifts. Sometimes it's the only memory one will ever have.

Back in the days when analog cameras were the only ones available, photos were more tangible. Nowadays they get stuck in the hard drive or the internet and a single virus could erase them all.

My dad told us that one day when we grow old we'll be thanking him for all the memories he's saved for us: photographs and videos. They get riper with age. I've come to realize the truth in those words not so long after he said that. Not that I've aged fast. It's just that I'm a schmaltz.

Print your photos. Write dates and captions.

-------

When I was a kid I used to play the keyboard during recitals, parties at home, and even during fiestas at the sports complex. It wasn't that fun. I didn't like the pressure and the attention. Even now, after 11 years, when I meet neighbors known to me or not, they'd still refer to me as the girl who played the keyboard the night Sweeney passed away.

Nearness of You (Cover)

CHOPPY. You'll hear my name somewhere. Clutter.

My originals are horrible.

The photo is inspired by Dearphotograh. It's a trip to memory lane. Reminds me of  the movie filled with so much nostalgia, Cinema Paradiso.

overly romantic, it's laughable

I want to make sure I bring all the stuff I need when I go out on a trip so I list down the things I have to pack. This is a list I made on our trip to Argao and I've been using it on the following treks I've had, adding whatever stuff I need.

One of the things I almost always bring with me is a book or any reading material and/or a notebook where I can draw or write stuff.  It's true what they say: boredom kills. And this is my way of hanging on to dear life. (Okay, that was cheesy.)

Packing for the recent trek I had was hurried. I was currently reading a thick novel but I didn't want to bring anything big and heavy so I grabbed this small novel (novella?) I had in my shelf: Bridges of Madison County.

It was so short at around 150 pages with huge font -- talk about stretching the length of the novel -- that I finished half of it during the frequent breaks we had. I had the impression that it was a good book coz the awesome Clint Eastwood made a film adaptation about it. I was wrong. It was overly romantic, too cheesy I thought some rats were trying to attack me. I hate the story. Wife of a decent husband falls in love with a stranger she met for four days while her family was away on a trip. She and stranger part ways and never meet again but their love never faded even until their death decades after. asdfjkl!!!!

Too sensational, too cinematic. I wanted to crumple the pages and burn the book. 

It's terrible. I'm no moralist but it amuses me that this book became so popular because they had an affair.

Unless you want to feel angry and dumb and wanting to poke your eyes for reading such horrible stuff, don't read it.