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:
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
ps. and where you are now is just brilliant.
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!
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
awww. i meeeeess you.
GAH.
i second the gaurox.
i miss you like a severed-frickn-limb, and so jealous that itchy gets to see you soon.
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!
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.
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
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
gauri,
i miss you too! also mess you. with nutella in the dimples! hahahaha!
*sigh*
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
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)
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.
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?
i need a new post - i have nothing to say about this one
in sunny perth - learning heaps about our nemesis
happy, grotty? glad you're having a nice time reading nasty stories. send me a postcard?
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