Thursday, September 25, 2014

LOST LOVES

Memory is so many different things at the same time. It is a way of embalming, holding on to, recapturing and simply recalling. Often the recalling is unbidden.It is uncertain as to what prestidigitation is happening in the unconscious from whence certain memories spring. Or a sight or smell, as proust's narrator demonstrates, evokes strong associations.
But in the unconscious, amorphous processes work. Memory is a vast pool. There must be ,in the unconscious , a meta memory wherein constituent memories are conglomerated, resurfacing either by will or caprice. This meta memory is like a mosaic. And these constituent memories fragments aggregated randomly. Through some unforeseen, undiscerned mechanism these memories emerge, transform perception and dissolve and sometimes  re emerge. At other moments experience is allied to memory though in indecipherable permutations. An experience reactivates a memory, any memory. Or sitting, unthinking brings to the forefront, often as a result of being outside of cognitive ratiocination, an unanticipated flow of memories.
And sometimes what strings these memories together is our self. Threaded by experience, studded with piquant significations, non linear and defying spatiality these memories, like quarks, reconstitute in multitudinous combinations. This nebulous process is as yet unfathomed by human consciousness. Though psychoanalysts inch closer, or so they believe, to a causality their explorations remain unproved and irreconcilable.
In my consciousness there is the vastitude of the sea. Waves of memory roil an churn, advance and retreat. As a wave juts out a memory surfaces, leaves behind sediments and detritus and retreats. Follows another memory. The concatenation is incessant, tethered to the mortal frame yet memories transcend even mortality. In human consciousness mnemonics huddle experientially, through human intersection. In the collective consciousness memories are grafted, reinterpreted, rejuvenated and passed on. The corporeal physiognomy obliterates but the consciousness lives on.

No comments:

Post a Comment