Tuesday, February 23, 2010


Part of what is tough about writing memoir is the subjectivity of memory. If I didn't have this picture for example, I don't know if I'd believe my mother when she told me that hummingbirds at the L.A. Zoo actually landed on my arms, picked up my hair, and drank from a Carnation in my ear. But there it is...

In my search for the truth I have come to discover that it is not the same as the facts. The facts are names and dates and evidence. The truth requires faith.

1 comment:

  1. I have a vivid memory of childhood, one that my parents cannot believe that I recall. When I was 3 (that's right - 3), we had a pool in the backyard with a slide.

    However, the slide hose was broken, so we had to climb to the top with an empty ice-cream-gallon-bucket filled with water and pour it down the slide before we could descend. I vividly remember that physical activity, even though I was so young.

    I think that visceral, physical memories are easier to remember than emotional or mental recall at that age.

    There are other "stories" from my childhood that have been relayed to me that I take as fact, but the truth of climbing that ladder and the adventure of that slide is something that I will always take with me.

    May the Truth you seek be the most worthwhile memory on your journey.