Fond Memories or the Power of Pictures
I got a surprise in the mail a week ago. Something I never thought I'd see again.
With very few exceptions, I don't have many things from my childhood. All I got really is memories and the people I love. And while nothing can take those things from me, you can't really touch them. So imagine my surprise when I recieve a package of pictures.
I can't believe I was so small. I remember some of the things in these pictures. There's no one point in time - it's an ecletic mix. Like the time I did my first play at Parkhill West Williams Public School. I was a shoemaker in Shoemaker and the Elves.
There's pictures of my sister, my mom, my dad, my grandparents in Windsor Ontario. We'd always go down Christmas time, and more often when we lived in Parkhill, so it was just really cool to see some of this again. I never thought I would. And yet here it is.
It got me thinking. Sometimes you question as an artist how important your pictures are or your words or whatever medium you use. Even though these aren't the greatest pictures in the universe, they were able to connect me back to a time I remember very fondly. And then I realize just how potent pictures really are. Anyone that can take a good picture or draw has a special gift to connect people. And it's something that shouldn't be taken lightly.
That was the first thought. The second? I lived in a town with the population of about five thousand people and even though many of the families grew up in the same town and lived together, in some cases they don't speak to each other. It's not like there's problems there, but in some cases they don't speak to each other for months or even years unless something terrible is going on. Looking at them, I wonder if I'd be looking at these pictures so fondly if I grew up in a place like this, instead of being driven apart and having threads like this taken away?
Maybe because we're all so far apart, we appreciate the time we do have. Or maybe I'm luckier than I realize. And that's a comforting thought.
Hopefully by Christmas I'll be able to go home again. We'll see.
JP
With very few exceptions, I don't have many things from my childhood. All I got really is memories and the people I love. And while nothing can take those things from me, you can't really touch them. So imagine my surprise when I recieve a package of pictures.
I can't believe I was so small. I remember some of the things in these pictures. There's no one point in time - it's an ecletic mix. Like the time I did my first play at Parkhill West Williams Public School. I was a shoemaker in Shoemaker and the Elves.
There's pictures of my sister, my mom, my dad, my grandparents in Windsor Ontario. We'd always go down Christmas time, and more often when we lived in Parkhill, so it was just really cool to see some of this again. I never thought I would. And yet here it is.
It got me thinking. Sometimes you question as an artist how important your pictures are or your words or whatever medium you use. Even though these aren't the greatest pictures in the universe, they were able to connect me back to a time I remember very fondly. And then I realize just how potent pictures really are. Anyone that can take a good picture or draw has a special gift to connect people. And it's something that shouldn't be taken lightly.
That was the first thought. The second? I lived in a town with the population of about five thousand people and even though many of the families grew up in the same town and lived together, in some cases they don't speak to each other. It's not like there's problems there, but in some cases they don't speak to each other for months or even years unless something terrible is going on. Looking at them, I wonder if I'd be looking at these pictures so fondly if I grew up in a place like this, instead of being driven apart and having threads like this taken away?
Maybe because we're all so far apart, we appreciate the time we do have. Or maybe I'm luckier than I realize. And that's a comforting thought.
Hopefully by Christmas I'll be able to go home again. We'll see.
JP