Look at the salt and pepper shakers pictured above. I acquired them around 1971 from a jumble sale in a community hall across the road from where I then lived. One glance at them and I immediately think of my old house and neighbourhood, despite me only having them there for about a year or so before moving.
They've now seen three different homes, two of which they've spent far more time in than the one in which I lived when I first got them. That being the case, why don't I associate them with either of the other two residences, except in the most minimal of ways? I'm always amazed by how certain things can make such an initial impression on one's mind that, even over 40 years later, that first impression remains the pre-eminent one.
Does anyone else have an item from their early years that yet conjures up memories from the time and place they first got it, as opposed to any of the places in which they've subsequently lived for far longer periods, and which one would imagine would naturally supplant earlier and more distant associations?
If so, pray tell in the comments section.
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Something that's just occurred to me is that, back in the '70s, the salt and pepper shakers passed the number on the front door of my former abode on only two occasions - once when I crossed the threshold with them for the first time, and again when we flitted from the house in 1972.
However, 23 years ago, I acquired the actual number plate from the then-current tenant, and affixed it to the room door of my studio. The shakers were brought into my studio tonight in order to be photographed - and, in so doing, passed the old number plate for the first time in over four decades.
Don't know about the rest of you, but I somehow find that strangely profound in some indefinable way.
1 comment:
Well, I thought it was interesting - but then, I would!
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