Jun 3, 2016
Listen to the stories people share from their childhood. Listen to them recount lucid memories that have grown in their mind like stubborn weeds. Listen to what they remember: the way their bedroom wallpaper curled shyly at its corners or how white their knuckles got holding onto something they never wanted to let go.
These vivid memories and details that we shrug off as trivial have a quiet, poetic importance: there is a strange weight to them. Listen to what people remember from a time when they were small and innocent and brave and you will hear poetry. There’s a reason why people carry some memories like stones in their pockets.
