Is there a word for the sensation of closing in on a memory but not being able to capture it fully? If there’s not, don’t worry; Sarah Shaw’s artwork does a good job of catching that feeling in all of its beauty and madness.
Sarah Shaw is an artist based in Brighton, England. Her signature painting style combines recognizable aspects of landscape or people with frenzies of muted color and brushstrokes, causing a hazy effect.
Her work commands my attention because it changes my emotional state—though I cannot always relate to the content in every painting, I can feel the sensation of something that once belonged to me fading to images and obscurity.
For example, the image below reminds me of cold days I’ve spent among Midwest winters, walking through parking lots towards my car, feeling the skin on my hands stretch across my knuckles under my gloves. The cold of hopelessness and the wonderful anticipation of warmth are both in this image—but they are somehow both distant, disconnected, as if from a memory I’m not recalling quite right.
The Prompt
Take some time to free-write about a memory of yours that has been reduced to a moment or a sentiment versus a recollection of an entire event. This should be something you don’t remember well, with the exception of sensory details. Take this proposal from Maya Angelou: “At the end of the day people won't remember what you said or did, they will remember how you made them feel.”
This, along with Shaw’s artwork, should be the jumping point for this prompt. What colors and textures cut through the haze? What about what isn’t remembered clearly? Is there a person that is now a silhouette, faceless?
It’s not so much about exactly where you are standing and at what time of day, but the repeating yellow lines in the parking lot. Or the shuddering of the bushes, branches chattering like cicadas. Or the small pressure of human contact, skin against skin or skin against cotton, against fleece. Or that feeling of a latex balloon floating somewhere in the interior of your body, rising high in helium excitement or popping low in subdued disappointment.
Try and find out if these muffled memories aren’t obsolete, poet.
Hey Alyssa! So, this is an odd and slightly creepy semi-e-reunion type thing: I was at Q-Summit's Creative Writing Workshop today, and when Alexandria was going over who works at Floodmark, your name popped out. Speaking of memories, I'm probably a muffled memory for you too: This is Liz Bajjalieh, We did theater together back in like Middle School and I remember you from that. I love weird serendipity moments like this, that odd rekindling of seeing someone who is distant and where they're going in life. I guess I wanted to say it's really cool to see you a part of this project, and I am incredibly proud of the work you're doing. Best of luck with everything :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Liz! I do remember you very clearly, actually: I remember Grease, then all of our emails and AOL instant messages sharing our writing, our to-be novels, etc. :) You were very talented back then and I would bet anything you are a phenomenal writer and thinker today, who is going to create positive change in this world. I hope you're doing well!
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