Skimming old stories I wrote, and even ones I started and abandoned, is a little like sorting through old photos. Photos are two dimensional triggers that may, if given enough attention, draw memories out of the tangled gauze of dim recollections. But stories are laden with emotional meat on the bones; they paint full-scale portraits of experience the way photos don’t. I suppose photographs evoke memories, while stories preserve them.
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Dickens’ assessment of art was, ultimately, wrong-headed. Am I right? So, too, may be my relegation of photographs to categorization as two-dimensional triggers. Your comments always cause me to think and, in many cases (like this one), to do my research in an attempt to understand them! I truly appreciate that, my friend. I really do.
There’s always scraps …. old lamps for new!