Nostalgia - new photographs from old slides

The last time I stayed with my Mum we pulled out dusty tin containers of old photography slides and clicked them one by one into the slide projector...oh that's you Dawn, you must have been about...oh let me think...two...look at the television it's tiny....you still have that tea service Mum...yes a wedding present...

We had hours of reminiscent fun! But some of the slides were cracking and fading; so with not a moment to waste for fear of losing more memories we bought a digital slide converter and with hours and hours of oohing and aahing my brother transferred the pictures into jpeg files. Now all on a laptop, the name game has begun; who is that Mum, how old were you when you first met Dad....we didn't know you went to Venice...oh yes....!

Once they are labelled my job will begin...enhancing the colours, cropping, straightening, adding photograph edges, and more oohing and aahing needless to say...

People say I look like my Mum!

Take Care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them.

- Bob Dylan

Killing Creativity - Epilepsy at work

My writing has missed the bus. Words, like the end of a rainbow are impossible to find.

I chase red orange yellow and green but they blur into blue indigo and violet.  A sentence is the undiscovered pot of gold.

Keyboard tapping causes nausea then cotton wool fireworks explode in my head before salty rain streaks down my face – another seizure.

I call out to Mr H,

What’s the word for a group of sentences?

Paragraph

I slap my forehead.

I write to keep my grey matter alight, but at the moment the brightness has turned to mist where words get lost or alter their shape as they emerge. Cups are cakes, shoes become slippers, knives are kettles and sentences are a jigsaw with missing pieces.  A thought in the kitchen slips away before I reach the next room.

As I walk in search of a cluster of words, sentences part to let me through. I hunt for a paragraph until the sun disappears. I sleep under a window and dream of floating pages trapped in my minds web.

Morning and evening I gulp down the extra pink and white mind blurring thieves.  Hopefully once the changeover is complete the rainbow's end will be mine.

A Caribbean Rainbow I captured in 2012

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Creative-Writing, Epilepsy