Tuesday, March 18, 2008

on the physicality of homesickness


i don't think i've mentioned on here how weirdly specific my moments of homesickness are. i'll just be minding my own business, thinking about whatever, and be struck by the memory of walking into the cold expanse of southern cross station, or what is was like to sit under the gum trees at melbourne uni, or climbing the stairs to work, and the particular smell hitting my nose at the turn in the staircase. the other day i remembered floating round in the paddling pool in the backyard in brunswick, after dark, with a glass of wine beside me.

these flashes of memory tend to happen in the morning and, as these examples indicate, are completely 3D, five senses, extremely physical and situational memories. they don't hurt so much anymore. it's just a strange sense of exactly what it was like to be there, so far away from here.

17 comments:

Anonymous said...

darling, it sounds like grief - but unlike other kinds of grief, you can come back here! it is all still here, still pottering along same old. and you have parts of it coming to visit you in the next few months hey.!
Let me know if you want anything - I am sending more soon. xoxovta

Anonymous said...

ps. and where you are now is just brilliant.

itchy said...

smell is indeed a powerful force of memory. it happens to me too, but a certain smell or temperature in the air will catapult me back to london or italy.

dearest, if i could send you the melbourne of 2004, i would. meanwhile, I hope to finish your photo project next week while i'm on leave. hoorah!

groteaux said...

what good kind friends you have on your blog

have you read remembrance of things past? s'posed to be good about smell and memory

Gauri said...

awww. i meeeeess you.

tine said...

GAH.

i second the gaurox.

i miss you like a severed-frickn-limb, and so jealous that itchy gets to see you soon.

groteaux said...

there are two big grey hunstmen living here in my zone, one of which has just caught a baby lizard - makes me v v jumpy when I lift anything at all

be homesick for that!

Epponnee-Rae said...

vta,

thankyou, darling. yes, i know it's still there. boring old melbourne!

a bit of it is coming to visit me next week! eeeee!

ooooo, i love yr packages. but it is entirely my turn. hang on a bit, til ziggy gets back from montreal.

love

ps. agreed. snow, mountains, sea, prado. all good.

Epponnee-Rae said...

itchy,

this isn't quite that, though. i've had that, mostly with india. there's this particular brand of liquid hand soap which catapults me back to ladakh. very odd.

but these memories strike for no reason at all. mostly it's when i'm just awake in the mornings, which is the same smell all the time.

photo project! huzzah!

love

Epponnee-Rae said...

groteaux,

i feel special and loved. nice to know all these people care.

*sings* proust in his first book, proust in his first book, proust in his first book wrote. . .

i mean, no. isn't he frightfully dense?

love

Epponnee-Rae said...

gauri,

i miss you too! also mess you. with nutella in the dimples! hahahaha!

*sigh*

Epponnee-Rae said...

tine,

you too can come visit me! yay!

i miss you too. luckily itchy keeps me up to date with all your sordid goings on.

love

tine said...

oh she does, does she??!

i could tell you a thing or twelve about young miss itchy...hoo boy, could i!!

lubs and slobbery kisses!! (and a grape in yr ear)

itchy fingers said...

yes, she could. all those scandalous stories about donating soup to the poor and doing fun runs for charity.

oh, i'm a hellraiser, i am.

Epponnee-Rae said...

tine, sweetheart, i've known her since we were squalling infants together, or near enough. let's not start that game.

have a banana slug up the nostril! it means "i love you!"

ps. itchy, i remember yr rebellious days. let's not tell them about the drug ring and the black market abortion business, hey?

groteaux said...

i need a new post - i have nothing to say about this one

in sunny perth - learning heaps about our nemesis

Epponnee-Rae said...

happy, grotty? glad you're having a nice time reading nasty stories. send me a postcard?