Flashes of Memory
Since I am an extremely visual person, I found that my memories came first from seeing a room or place in my head. The place comes to mind, and I can see the surrounding details and the overall feel of the memory. I can feel different people’s presence and aura, and specific memories with them arise. Why do I think of these specific memories? There must be some significance to why my brain decided to keep these particular memories so vividly intact.
My Blue Sky
My room’s ceiling is sloped because it is under the roof. Ba painted the blue, ma painted the clouds; the finished product is my own blue sky. Never changing, and gazed upon for daydreams and imagination.
Like The Wind
We are outside in the blue sky, and the field is green. It is brother’s first soccer game. His small legs are running the ball in the wrong direction. He unknowingly scores for the opposing team. Coach says he’s got spirit, and runs like the wind.
Giant Grapes
Special nights means there are giant grapes to eat, the size of my fist. I won’t eat the skin, sour. Ma peels the skin, cuts them in half, and takes out the seeds. I happily eat the prune finger looking grapes.
Neighborhood House
Neighborhood girl asks, “Do you want to play house?” I, always hungry, sneakily say, “Yes, but if we play house we have to have snacks.” I eat all the snacks.
Backs
We jump onto the giant brown couch that engulfs us upon contact. Aunt Tracy knows to make me a snack. Snacks are a given. She turns on Land Before Time and we don’t step on cracks because we’ll fall and break our backs.
Sweet Shake
Brother is at soccer practice. Aunt and I go the the park as usual. We sit on our usual bench and I drink the sweet orange and vanilla ice cream shake while we talk about nothing and everything in particular.
“If You’re Good Toys”
Aunt Tracy says “Each of you has a cup to collect coins in. If you are good, you get a dime.” We save up our dimes and on special trips we get to go to the dollar store. Brother, Eric, Darren and I roam the long aisles in search for toys.
Santa
Ba says, “Ask me any question, and I’ll tell you the truth. I, a curious and already suspecting child, ask ba, “Is Santa real?” Ba replies with a sigh and says, “I told you I’d tell you the truth…”
My Helmet
Brother and I always bike around the neighborhood. We are at Toys R Us getting helmets. Ma says, “Don’t you want this pink princess one?” I hate pink. I pick and keep a white one with green, blue, and black paint splatters on it.
Cinderella
A girl asks, “What’s your favorite princess? I like Sleeping Beauty.” Her dress is pink, ew. My favorite color is blue. I reply, “Cinderella.”
Dance
It is Tuesday, and I have my usual dance class. We sit on the floor and Aunt Tracy puts my hair in a tight ponytail, holding my hair into place with glittery sweet smelling gel.
Photos
I am dressed in a puffy purple dress. The ma put these brown long curly hair extensions in my hair. I’m wearing tight shoes. Brother and I have to smile for a photoshoot. Strangers are looking at us. I don’t like this.
Bubble Tea
I get off the bus, and walk home with brother. Ma opens the door and says, “I made you bubble tea.” She gets the light blue pitcher of milk tea out of the fridge and I think I am the happiest girl alive.
Conclusion
After compiling and actually writing out these memories, I realized that all of these memories have to do with my likes and dislikes. I have concluded that these memories have been kept so intact because they are most likely the beginnings of my feelings towards these different subjects. I don’t like the color pink, and I hate when I have to be in pictures. I love bubble tea, the color blue, and especially food. I also realized that these memories include prominent people in my life that influenced me as a child. Interestingly enough, all the memories are relatively warm memories; there is a warm glow place in front of all of them. I think this is because memory is a place where we document the past in our own biased view, and we are so analytical that we can convince ourselves of events that could possibly not have even happened. Nevertheless, these versions of the supposed past stay with us and they consciously, as well as subconsciously, impact who we are.
To create a visual representation of a distinct memory from my childhood, I challenged myself to only use one main material, because often memories are not completely remembered in the full. We usually remember bits and pieces of a memory, and are able to fill in the blanks. This particular memory is of the ceiling of my old room. My ceiling was slanted both ways because it was right under the roof, so my parents painted it blue with white clouds. It was my own blue sky.
