Love, empathy, tolerance--also puppies, flowers, and laundry

Monday, March 20, 2006

For the ages

There is nothing better than learning something new!

Although our photos are neatly and chronologically arranged in fifteen large photo albums occupying a very long shelf, although I have always enjoyed browsing through them, still...I've always felt there was something missing.

In some cases, what was missing was my memory. How old was Pedro in this photo? Or, good heavens, was that Erkie instead? Was this the Rose Parade in '82 or '86? The train cake was cute for his third birthday, but what games did we play and what were those kids' names again? I never realized how the cherished details of their childhood would blur beyond recall, buried in day-to-day bustle and an avalanche of time.

I always wonder what the boys think when they turn the pages. Do the photos mean anything to them, other than an interesting view of what they looked like when they were small? Do I bore them when I mention details that certain photos evoke or does it make the images live? It certainly seems to me that the albums need a narrative to be complete.

And why in the world have we put each and every photo we've ever taken in these albums? Some are out of focus, some have every person with shut eyes or that strange manic smile peculiar to those being photographed, some have faded, some compositions are rubbish compared to the lucky shot taken a minute later.

Now I am enjoying the satisfaction of orchestrating creative, heirloom, archival scrapbooks. The history major in me loves the story behind the pictures. A picture may be worth a thousand words, a photo without any words isn't worth three cents, but an image with a description of some basic who-what-where-when-and-whys is priceless! These books may mean something mostly to me at present, but someday...I hope they eventually will be the catalyst for rousing yarns, the source of tolerant laughter, or a surprise discovery to the reader.

I've been a crafter my whole life, but the delight I am taking in scrapbooking is almost beyond description. Scrapping is satisfying to the artist in me who loves color and line, to the painter who loves a well-composed scene, to the wife and mother who loves her family, and to the historian who believes that stories make the past live again. These disparate elements can occasionally combine to create a story that rocks!

And now, I'm off to work on yet another scrapbook page...

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