Pictures are powerful reminders and art the creates an emotional response with the viewer.  As a photographic artist I enjoy putting the two together.  My camera is my easel and paint brushes where I can create memories and emotions tied to past events.   If you look at art closely it often begins to ask you questions.  Sometimes it asks questions about your past.


Memories work in a strange way.  Most of the time you only remember small amounts of your past, but what I find interesting is the triggers.  I mean, why would a picture in some old dusty tome from the 1980’s come out of viewing a work of art that I had created almost 30 years later?


This portrait of a delicate leaf catching the glowing mid-morning sun did just that.   When I saw it’s final form, I thought back to the different world of the 1980’s.  Sitting there in a high school classroom desk wishing the world was different.  I experienced boredom at the highest possible level.  Of course it was high school and I was always mind numbingly bored.


So, in trying to arouse my interest in something, anything, other that what the teacher was droning on about, I picked up my biology book and just started thumbing through it.  Anything to get me to the dismissal bell and out of there with my sanity intact.


That’s when I discovered a beautiful picture of a leaf.   Specifically, the picture was the underside of a leaf drenched in sunlight with the word Photosynthesis written in bold letters across the top.  My curiosity increased, so I started reading the blend of information most textbooks of that time period offered.


That memory is still amazing, given the time that has passed.  But my attempt to beautify the underside of a leaf developed into more that I had bargained for.  For no sooner had the wisps of the leaf picture memory past, it quickly replaced with the memory of that same teacher being bitten by the class pet python.


Seems, the teacher had wanted to change the mouse cage before the snake cage  and placed the little furry rodent on her shoulders at the same spot she soon placed the snake.  But that is another story for another time.


Ah, the memories.   Anyone else remember their least favorite or most favorite classes from high school?    What’s your story?

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