I'm envious of those who can scrapbook. Being able to evoke the core sentiment, the hearth of the memory, encapsulated within a memento the size of which can be placed into a book.
I say "can" scrapbook because I know I have not the patience, nor the sentimentality of objects & their binding to moments. Not every hobby allows for open entry. Not everyone has what it takes to do it.
Some have a tenuous relationship with the past, some have barbed wire gates and sealed doors that limit the amount of times, or the tenacity with which one can look back.
Scrapbooking allows you to frame your recollection of events in a manner most suitable to yourself, or perhaps simply to your personal evocation. Like a book-full of inside jokes, what's gold in one's ears fills only white noise in another's.
I say "can" scrapbook because I know I have not the patience, nor the sentimentality of objects & their binding to moments. Not every hobby allows for open entry. Not everyone has what it takes to do it.
Some have a tenuous relationship with the past, some have barbed wire gates and sealed doors that limit the amount of times, or the tenacity with which one can look back.
Scrapbooking allows you to frame your recollection of events in a manner most suitable to yourself, or perhaps simply to your personal evocation. Like a book-full of inside jokes, what's gold in one's ears fills only white noise in another's.
My girlfriend however has kept every card she -- and now we -- receive and also is beginning to scrapbook.
I love it tthat she does this. These physical devices hit me with hotwired connection to the past when i do visit them.
Somedays after touching that wire i wonder, what i be willing to do this now myself?
Not yet. Though i no longer thinkk i'm better than it.