I have been thinking alot about the fact that no matter how much we live in the present moment, we are still, to some extent, encompassed by the past. I think the train of thought was triggered by an afternoon at the weekend scanning documents and old photographs. Just a glimpse at some interior photos of the house I grew up in took me straight back there. I was intrigued that I dream about this house a great deal but it is always as it was when I was a child. Most of the photos I was looking at during the weekend were taken in the late 1970s and early 80s. I had completely forgotten how the house had changed, particularly after my father's death and before the move to Cambridge.
I have been recognising how arbitary memory appears. Digging deeper, the selectiveness of memory seems very poignant. I had missed out the adult memories of the property and selected the earlier 'interpretation' of where and how we lived. I often find I dream about times which did not feel comfortable and safe for me. I suspect my subconscious is doing an excellent job in managing early trauma and helping me to heal.
I am fascinated by tbe memories we consciously select too. The parts of our story we dwell on as well as those we shove to the back of our minds. What is the image of myself I am creating with such a strong editorial through line? Which parts am I ignoring or failing to be-friend?
I am very aware I have sublimated a great deal to do with my theatre-based past. It is painful to recall that this was for two reasons. Firstly, the Church invited me to choose between vocation or theatre. I chose a vocation to serve the Church but grieved for many years as a consequence. Shutting out my creative instincts seemed the most effective way of stultifying the pain. Secondly, every time it became known I had some sort of theatrical background I seemed to be invited to 'do' sketches etc... for the church. I had been brought up in the world of professional theatre. At the time I found it difficult to make the cross over to amateur expectations. Now I feel differently about the creative process - but at the time I couldn't be quite as flexible or forgiving in my heart of the well-meaning soul who didn't bother to learn their lines or thought it a huge laugh - and so I thought it best to avoid Christian Drama rather than see it as a creative opportunity.
Funny how looking back offers a different reading of events. Now I can't imagine why I needed to be so precious!
Sometimes talking about a pain helps it to dilute and/or go away.
Posted by: Pablo Tyke | 08/05/2008 at 08:57 PM