Ekphrastic Inspiration From Family Photos

I was wandering about an antique store when I happened upon some old family photographs.  Just anonymous people in forgotten places in suburbia in times not so long ago.  There were no markings on them – no names, dates, places or other details to give voice to the voiceless.  It brought to mind an old Israeli novel by Ronit Matalon in which she created a story based on unfamiliar photos such as these.  Not knowing the story behind them, she simply made one up.  It’s a totally mimetic ekphrasis experience.  Sound Greek to you?  It should, because, well it is.  But to boil it down to a more graspable concept – it is in essence taking an existing image (artistic or realistic) and finding literary inspiration in it.

While it seems sad to think that your treasured family photos might end up in some store being fondled by strangers long after you’re dead- it gave me an idea.  Most of us don’t label our photos, because we know who is who.  But if these photos are tossed to the wind in one or more generations after we’re gone, how are they going to know who your mum and dad were or the occasion which someone thought should be captured for eternity?  Sure, we could all go through our collections and get everything labeled and detailed to avert being erased after we’re long gone.  But, wouldn’t it be fun to beat the people of the future to the punch by letting loose those ekphrastic inclinations before someone who doesn’t even know the people in the photos does at some point far into the future?

I’m quite tempted to take some of my favorite family photos and write a short story on the back of them, making up a narrative that truly captures the spirits of those represented in the photo.  I’d love to make my loved ones famous and maybe even infamous as I imagine the perplexed expressions of those in the future who flip the photo over and get more than they bargained for.  Not a blank space, nor menial details such as “Grandma’s birthday 1962”, but a short, sparkling narrative that might make the reader laugh, cry, or simply smile with satisfaction at having been thoroughly and unexpectedly entertained.

Political Ads and Breeding

There have been a plethora of political ads for local positions on TV as of late.  Have you ever noticed that practically every ad either begins or ends with the candidate posing with their spouse and children?  It’s amusing in the sense it seems that not only the ability to have sex, but to have it successfully – in terms of producing an output of healthy children – is part of their skill set.

It’s never just one child, it is always more than one.  An heir and a spare as the old joke goes. My mother was often ridiculed for having just one child.  Couldn’t she have more?  Why not adopt?  As a child I told her the best thing to tell them was, “I got it right the first time, I didn’t need to try again.”  Nevertheless, that is another essay entirely.

As a single woman with no children I myself have often heard this argument in the workplace that we just don’t understand the needs of families because we don’t have one of our own.  Are people truly so daft as to think that just because I haven’t reproduced that I lack any and all grasp of human empathy?  Do they really think single people are these ape-like imposters that seem human but somehow fall short because they haven’t fused with another and reproduced?

It’s not always due to inadequacy on the part of the primary party concerned you know.  If no one measured up to be worthy of entering into this world changing, irreversible deed, then wouldn’t you give that person applause for having the fortitude to stay single rather than settle into a loveless union?  They’ve had the courage to wait for the one that will keep the flame blazing eternal instead of seeing it dwindle to little more than a smoldering coal – heavy with time and despondency.   If you’re going to clone 50% of yourself wouldn’t you want the other 50% to be as top quality as you could find?  Why tie a pig to a chariot just because it’s sniffing around in the middle of the road?  Just because it flops itself in your path doesn’t mean you have to indulge it.

Besides that, single people have more time to observe those around them from an objective standpoint because their time is not as consumed by being distracted by dependents.  In many ways I think it actually makes us more compassionate and objective when it comes to understanding the needs of the society around us.  After all, not everyone comes from or has the perfect nuclear family and many of the most needy amongst us are indeed utterly alone.  In many ways a single person is more acutely aware of the difficulties of surviving alone in a world that seems to demand coupling as a required norm.

Presents and Memory

There have been numerous times in my life when I have felt anchored and in many ways trapped by materialism.  Having lived in the same house for 40+ years I have accumulated a lot of stuff as I imagine many others have as well.  Every few years I sold off various things to try and make some room and a little money.  No matter how much I sold it was still a daunting thought whenever I had the urge to move somewhere else.  What would I do with the rest of the “stuff”?  While it has provided me with a comfortable life, I think in many ways it has stifled the wanderer in me and perhaps that has not been such a good thing.

Since the death of my father I have found the notion of departing from even the most banal object, painful if not impossible.  The entire house has been transformed from objects into memories.  Everything is either something father gave me as a gift, something he used, something he never figured out how to use, etc.  Practically everything evokes a memory of him in one way or another.  Parting with any of it, especially for money, feels like a betrayal – a dismissal of all the memories it evokes.

I suppose the greatest testament to my father’s life is not that he had a lot of stuff, but my realization this Christmas that practically every object in this house was either a gift from him, or something he bought in order to exercise his creativity in order to inspire others.  The house is full of the aromas of selflessness, purpose and light.  How does one ever go back to looking at items as merely objects again?

Making Lunch

Scene:  My mother taking great care as to what goes into her lunch bag taking in excess of thirty minutes to get just the right combination of goodies.

It’s a fascinating scene watching my mother pack her lunch before work each day.  She isn’t like most people who just throw in whatever leftovers they have from the night before.  She really puts thought into it.

She considers how busy her day is likely to be as to how many snacks she puts in.  She includes less if she knows her day will have little to no down time.  More if the weather is bad and she know she will likely be staying indoors for lunch – thereby interacting with co-workers who might be interested in sampling her latest culinary experiments – always French of course.

She rarely if ever packs processed food.  It’s always natural ingredients like fruit and nuts or something she has made.  It really has nothing to do with being health conscious.  She is packing memories.  We cook together often so including that cookie or hamburger we made together reminds her during the course of a stressful day of the family waiting for her return that evening.  She also always includes a slice of tomato no matter the season because she used to have a tomato sandwich every day when she came home from school as a child with her mother.  My grandmother has long since passed away decades ago, but my mother has never forgotten to include a tomato.

Old and New

Scene:  An elderly couple living in a modest sized older suburban home are standing on the border of their property and staring at the new home that is being built in the lot next door to them.  Unlike their home, this is a luxury home whose price starts at half a million.

They represent the past – modesty, comfort, family in a quiet suburban community.  A day, a week, a month or most certainly under a decade from now one or both of them will no longer be with us.  And what will their legacy to the world be?  There is probably not enough time left to make a profound shift in their lives which would leave a significant portion of the population beside themselves at their passing or forever recounting memories of the profundity of their time among us.   No, indeed if they haven’t made a mark of significance which they and only they could muster upon the world by now, chances are next to none that they will.  Perhaps they are modest people of modest means who instead of bold differentiation were satisfied to be just another cog in the wheel of life.  Satisfied with suburban comfort, security, continuity and indifference to most everything occurring outside of a five mile radius of their fireplace.

And what are they contemplating?  Newness?  The skeletal frame of a future home of someone with more money than sense.  After all they will both enjoy the same suburban view except for the fact one family will have likely paid over ten times as much for it.  The way of the future seems to be bigger homes and smaller families.  Excessive emptiness over crowded contentment.

If only we could hear their words or look into their eyes.  Then we would know if the contemplation was one of envy, scoff or admiration at the bigger, bolder dwellings of the future in the hopes that the sentiments contained therein match the promise of the façade.

Christmas Greetings

There is a great old phrase that goes something like, “whilst the pessimist and the realist are arguing over how much water is in the glass, the opportunist drinks it”.  It reminded me in part of one of my favourite poem’s from Estonian poet Kristiina Ehin which says in part, “in an instant this moment will be poured into the well of the past and from there can never be drawn out again.”

So as most of us begin our holiday celebrating these next few weeks lets make those special moments with our families and loved ones count.  Don’t over think it, just enjoy the memories as they come.  After all it’s not about what’s inside the package, it’s who hands it to you that is the most precious gift of all.

The Game

When I was a teenager at school one day our English teacher had us write down on strips of paper all that we held near and dear in the world.  We then sat in a circle and one by one discarded into a central pile those things that we could let go of.  Most people tossed things like video games, favourite clothes etc. first.  They were horrified that I tossed family and friends first.  At the very end of the game the one piece of paper I had left said God.  Everyone else was left with family and friends.  Thereafter they all thought I was a religious fanatic which actually couldn’t have been further from the truth.

The reason I did it is because friends can fall out of favour with you or simply lose touch over the years.  Very few people are still in touch with childhood friends.  Most of us can’t even remember their names.  As for family they too can change.  How many children are estranged from parents and relatives for one reason or another?

The one constant over which you have complete control is your imaginary friend – God.  It is the one element of life you will never misplace, fall out with or lose contact with because you control its very existence in your conscience.  Call him or her whatever you like, imagine them in any form you like and know that they will believe in you, excuse your failings and grant your every desire because you and only you created its existence in your imagination.