The stuff I've collected over the years in my little
box/bureau drawer/keepsake chest marks every step of my way.
I use to have a
box filled with old notes from high school but for some reason that I can’t
remember I let them all go. I use to keep every card that was ever giving to me
but after 20 or more years the box starts to gets too big. A memory lost was it
really a memory? I wonder if you really need that box full of things to have memories.
I watch the show hoarders now they have, what think are memories all around
them.
Looking in that photo album, I see—
Looking in that photo album, I see—
I see the old me
or the younger me. I see the fat friend, with the big beautiful smile. You
forget how you look till you see that picture; sometime it’s very hard to see
yourself as other do. What do they think and how do they feel. I see an outfit
that use to be in style, what was I thinking. I see friends that I have loved
for years and will always love. There are drinks, bar stools and cigarettes. I
see dancing and inappropriate gestures thinking back on all the infinite wisdom
I have given over the years and I laugh.
It was the first, but not the best--or was it?
My first car I named her Betty, she was a real
mess when I got her. She was a four door K-car half of her gray paint had already
peeled off. The first thing I had to do was clean her out, the person that
owned the car before had a serious candy problem. I found half eaten chocolate
bars on the floor melted into the carpet, candy wrappers and chewed gum stuck
under the seats. Then there where cigarette butt everywhere. Once I got her
cleaned up as good as I could it was time to drive her around and she drove
like a dream. Took me anywhere I needed to go and even if she broke down it didn’t
cost me more then $50 to fix her up. I can still remember getting to Betty on a
hot day, smelling chocolate and tobacco.
To this day I still enjoy that smell as weird as it may be.
It was the first, but not the best--or was it?
The Betty piece really picks up and takes off. Suddenly you're not worried about finishing an assignment--instead, you're trying to give your readers a picture, convey an experience, and are finding the words to do all that.
ReplyDeleteThe first two pieces are once-over-lightly pieces--not much detail or depth. The photo album begins to work here: "There are drinks, bar stools and cigarettes. I see dancing and inappropriate gestures..."
Yes! We can picture that, but by that point you're ending the graf! I get the feeling you sat down and wrote all three in one session, and you didn't really get your writer's juices flowing until after you'd already punched in a graf and a half.