Suddenly, at this insane hour, I remember being in Asia as a boy. I'm
not exactly sure where we where; probably Singapore. I remember a
series of figurines depicting some battle. What stuck me most
powerfully was the graphicness. Blood everywhere, heads missing;
grotesque. I was disturbed and frightened. Enough so that I remember
it clearly more than thirty years later.
Why now? Such an odd moment for such a memory to burst from the murk
of personal history. Randomness from the human brain, especially THIS
collection of personal synapses, is hardly unusual. I've learned that
these memories have triggers. Answers will come with time, with
consideration.
My "now" has been filled with self-analysis, diving deeper into who I
am and what I do. Career had been at the forefront. The rest of me has
been, somewhat, neglected in this. Perhaps a piece of this is a hint
to expand past one narrow piece of my life, regardless of how much of
my time is taken up by career. Perhaps…
Yet, there's more. A few weeks back, the house across from my parents
burned. 30 years ago, this month, my best friend's family lived there.
Well, 30 years ago was when that came to an abrupt end. Coming home
from school, a coroner's car in the driveway, the picture on the front
page of the local paper: "Murder/Suicide" screamed. Memories of a
husband and wife who maybe bickered at times, broken against horror. A
friend's psyche fragmented.
All these years later, I still struggle with this. This clearly holds
a defining place in my personality. Yet my memories are weak, vague.
Perhaps, pulling this other horror from my past, more innocuous,
safer, I'm trying to frame this other moment. Perhaps….
