Beautiful writing Matt. I was right there with you experiencing that tea. Loving the concept of a thousand fragments, because that’s what memory is, isn’t it
some people wear an extra layer of skin, others are privileged not to, which sometimes makes us vulnerable, but these sensations of time and place, people and light seem to me to be worth the lack of an outer shell. we just have to learn to mask the fall out at times. it is comforting to remember in this way.
Absolutely beautiful. I lost my father in March, and for this encapsulated the fragments of memory I’m experiencing currently. When you said ‘how can I not remember the table’ it very much resonated with me. Thank you 🙏🏼
Golly this is beautiful writing, Matt. I am so glad I stumbled upon your Fragments. "A pantry, a mop, a slab of green soap, a shaving brush, a spoke missing its dial on the the front of the gas hob." ... " - a pour of tea against the light ". I know this room through you. I am sitting in this room with dad and the teapot and the chalk-covered wall. Thank you
Beautiful writing Matt. I was right there with you experiencing that tea. Loving the concept of a thousand fragments, because that’s what memory is, isn’t it
some people wear an extra layer of skin, others are privileged not to, which sometimes makes us vulnerable, but these sensations of time and place, people and light seem to me to be worth the lack of an outer shell. we just have to learn to mask the fall out at times. it is comforting to remember in this way.
Thank you, Jenny. Give me vulnerability every time.
Absolutely beautiful. I lost my father in March, and for this encapsulated the fragments of memory I’m experiencing currently. When you said ‘how can I not remember the table’ it very much resonated with me. Thank you 🙏🏼
Thanks so much, Anna, and I'm so sorry for your loss: I hope you're coping OK and with many lovely memories, however much they tend to splinter.
That’s beautiful Matt. But four sugars?
To paraphrase Bob Mortimer: I tried five sugars once, but it was just too sweet.
Well, that makes sense.
Golly this is beautiful writing, Matt. I am so glad I stumbled upon your Fragments. "A pantry, a mop, a slab of green soap, a shaving brush, a spoke missing its dial on the the front of the gas hob." ... " - a pour of tea against the light ". I know this room through you. I am sitting in this room with dad and the teapot and the chalk-covered wall. Thank you
Thank you so much, Sharron.