Frau Niepenberg by Gerhard Richter
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“The inability to remember is itself perhaps a memory.” — John Berger, And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief as Photos
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In conversation with a friend, who used to teach remote viewing to the CIA, he would say, “When you begin with someone you have them close their eyes and tell you what they see. If they said “Nothing” I’d tell them to look again. Often that was the starting place. You’d go until maybe they’d say, “I see Black.”
I also had a client who spent her childhood in a concentration camp in Malaysia. She said she remembered nothing from those days. But at the root of her depression was this lack of memory itself, which was the sum total of all pain.
Another client who as a child, survived holocaust in Russia and remembered nothing “Except cold. Being cold. Always cold.” All memory banked as a single overwhelming sensation from which there was no escape.













