Memoriam

I constantly find myself in a cyclic pattern - that of remembering the past and the memories, pleasant and otherwise, that it brings.

And it's a choice I make - to remember; to exercise my ability for metacognition, reflection. And often the question I pose to myself is 'Why'? Why do I even dig so deep into the recesses in my mind to produce that memory, that inspiration to drive on?

Indeed, as I search, I stumble across visual representations of the past and the has- and had-beens: photographs. Indeed, a picture is worth a thousand words, though probably more than that is needed to perfectly recount that incident frozen in time to preserve the moment, the smiles and the joy; the sadness and sorrow.

And so I search and press on for that elusive moment that froze that instant in time, that portrait of beauty that inspires.