Memories

I go home just about every Sunday to go see my parents. I do this in part, to keep up the illusion that I'm a good son, but also to make myself feel a little less guilty about not being around for the five years I was at school (and getting into trouble). This past Sunday I found an old photo album containing pictures from when I was a rittle baby. It occurred to me while I was flipping through my old photos, that most people take pictures to help them remember stuff (or at least they used to anyway). Of course my mom had pictures of all the big moments from the first decade of my life, things such as birthdays, school pictures, and meeting Micky Mouse at disneyland. I'm sure these probably seemed like important things to me at the time, but fast forward a couple of years and many drinks later, I don't remember shit anymore. I probably spend more time trying to forget all the embarrassing moments of my life than I do remembering any of the good ones. When I realized this, I thought it was kind of funny that I decided to become a photographer, because when I take pictures I'm essentially making up memories I never had. Then again, it seems to me like most pictures are taken of skewed memories anyway.

One of the things that did came back to me as I was looking through my chubby baby pictures though, was the texture of stuff. In every picture I saw, I could still remember the way stuff felt as I crawled, lounged, and climbed my way through life. Even though I don't remember being a baby, I can still remember the way that blanket particular felt on my chubby little face as I would cried for attention (and food!).