I was thinking yesterday – what if other people’s memories of me (with me) at different points in time were stitched together…and them maybe interspersed with my own recollections of myself at different times. What would that life look like? What story of my life would others create from it?

I read the review on the new exhibit at the Morgan Library “The Diary: Three Centuries of Private Lives” today and what caught my attention first was the title “Tales of Lives Richly Lived, but True?”. It made me think what is really real? It struck me that both within ourselves and outside by others, it is all just pieces. Is there a whole? There are many many stories of each of us and I came to feel that it is neither good or bad. It is. And just like a newspaper article  (or the newspaper) is not the whole news…but that does not matter because there is still relevance. And because it is not whole/complete, I believe that the alterations, distillations, the horrors, the mysteries, the boredom, the beautiful allow for unique and wonderful and meaningful connections between us. So on that note, here is page from my journal…

It is.

 

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