Carol H Tucker Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
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beladona Memorial Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
Today is the 3rd day of the 6th week, the 7th day of the 2nd month, and the 38th day of 2023. Quote of the day: “The dreams of childhood – it’s airy fables, it’s graceful, beautiful, humane, impossible adornments of the world beyond; so good to be believed in once, so good to be remembered when outgrown” ~ Charles Dickens
On this day back in 1812, Charles Dickens was born. Once, during an interview, he mentioned that it was his memories from childhood that helped him write his stories. Stephen King has likened the creative process of crafting a narrative to being in a wakeful dream state, and has attributed a couple of his stories to dreams he had.
And this has gotten me to thinking, could I write a story about the dreams I remember from my youngest years? For I don’t have a lot of memories from growing up, only little snapshots of time. Sometimes I look at the pictures from back then and try to remember what was going on when they were taken, but the images staring out from the fading pieces of paper defy me.
My earliest memory is laying in bed, and I think it was actually a crib, or at least it had a railing around it. The room was dark, but the door to the hallway was open. I could smell my father’s cigarette smoke, and there was a shadow moving along the baseboard of a train chugging merrily away. I once told my mother, and she stared at me and said I couldn’t remember that, it was in the house they sold when I was about 2 ½ and I couldn’t remember the train set my father had put up around the Christmas tree. She got quite angry with me and told me to stop telling lies.
I wonder what kind of story I could shape, what alchemy of words would craft, a narrative about that toddler, laying there watching the shadow train, a palimpsest ….
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