Going back to Germany, to the house I grew up in, memories are hidden in every corner. Seeing things again for the first time, having a relationship with each item, that is why we have a hard time letting go of things sometimes. There is an emotional response to the things we see. When I saw my grandfathers brush, I could smell the turpentine and the stuffy room he used to paint in when I was a child.
Touching my grandmothers hat, I can hear her voice and see the patterns on her apron as it was yesterday. I can feel her sitting next to me on the stoop, watching the people go by.
Memories come rushing in with each image I see.
Time to make new memories, with my niece Lisa - the next generation. Perhaps she will remember our photo-shoot some day.
