So after reading an article on hobbies by dharmagirl, I was inspired to write on why I'm inspired to write. I never thought of myself as a writer, much less one that would put her thoughts out for anyone to judge. I wonder why I am driven to write. It occured to me that it's the same reason I love to scrapbook.
I've always been facinated by photos and the stories that lie behind them. More than just the who, where and when of a picture, but the memories that are invoked by seeing that image. When I look at a photo of me as a very young child holding my favorite doll, I don't remember the day the picture was taken. i remember hearing the stories that my mother told me about how I took my doll everywhere. I remember scratching her name onto a box and using it as a bed....and then crossing it off when I renamed her. Those are the memories that help me feel connected to my life, my past and my family.
About a year ago, I realized that I could not remember my wedding day. Not one bit. I cried for days and tried to explain how the day had faded into a blur, then gradually disapeared. Everyone would nod and say, "Oh yeah, lots of my wedding day was a blur. It just went so fast." What they didn't understand was I really don't remember. All I have are a handful of photos and the memories that are attached to each one. I remember how my brother in law caught the garter....I have the picture to remind me. But I don't remember who caught the bouquet or the food or music or what was said. I remember only the things that are locked into a piece of paper. And some of those memories are more remembering hearing the story that was told when others saw the picture.
Once I started examining my life, I realized people remember their friends and teachers from middle school and even elementary school. They remember funny events and jokes in a movie. I forget so much that I can watch a movie and not realize I've seen it until I've watched an hour or more. My husband is great about telling me, " No, you saw that and you hated it." when we rent a movie.
Finally it got to be too much to take. I went to a psychiatrist office to get a screening done. I took half a dozen tests, IQ, memory retention, visual accuity etc. When the results came back, I was told that everything fell in the normal acceptable limits for individuals. My IQ is well above average, but when I commented on how many of the other test results were in the upper 90s and one for mid range retention was 57, He refused to elaborate and just said it was within "acceptable limits". I went to a friend, who did the testing at the same office and asked about my scores. She said that I must have mad a mistake....she was sure that I didn't get that low..."You'd have to be a moron to get a 57".
Turns out I did. I have faulty wiring that allows me to have almost near perfect photographic memory, but be unable to retain information in the long term unless I continually refresh the memory. I say almost near perfect photographic because the "picture" gets blurry then fades within days. I can still remember where on a page I read an item, but after just a few days, it is too "blurry" to read. This explains why I was an A student...I read the text on the morning of the test and passed with flying colors....then forgot everything later and had to reread the text for the next test. That method came to a crashing halt when I found out that even with 8 hours of dedicated class everyday and an additional 4-6 hours of studying EVERY NIGHT, I could not remember Korean long enough to get through DLI. (another story for another day)
It also means I forget many things but can compensate by "building" memories based on others recollections and pictures. Sound creepy? Well it is. Many of my childhood memories are suddenly questioned. Did that really happen? Did the incident that hurt me so bad at 14 just get warped in my mind? Or did they really say/do that to me? I admit that I didn't have an easy childhood and that may be why I developed this. I (in my unprofessional opinion) think that this was a coping method to deal with issues and abuses that were too painful to face. Forgeting was easier. Unfortunately, I forgot the good stuff too.
This article started out as a way to express ehy I am so passionate about photographing my son's life and capturing the story on paper. I love being able to look back and have the memory of how I felt holding him stay with me. I hope it helps him (and the ones to come) find happy memories that don't fade away. i love to journal my thoughts and feelings in scrapbooks as a way to connect with those who read my books. It also gives me an opportunity to express my creativity without the frustration that comes from spending hours sewing a dress that when finished just doesn't look right on me!
I didn't intend to have this degrade into a pity party, so please don't think I'm complaining. It's cathartic to express thoughts in a way that may actually be read. Somehow writing in a journal that will get thrown away or boxed up doesn't seem to do the sam thing. And I haven't progressed in my scrap habit enough to feel comfortable putting less than joyful thoughts in them.
What I express may not be especially insightful or well writen but I find I enjoy having an outlet for my thoughts. So when all is said and done, that is why I scrap (and write). I wonder why others chose their hobbies. Was is catharsis? An inner longing to do something great? or something simpler? I'd love to hear what you think...