imouse

At my mother's funeral, I related a vaguely pointless story that came to mind, more or less on the spot. At some time, which must have been before I started school, my mother was taking a sculpture class at the local community college. While she worked in the studio, I'd quietly read. During breaks or after class, we'd go to the student cafeteria, get a snack, and take it back to the courtyard and eat it. Generally something like a burrito, or for me just a side of refried beans. I did go to that junior college, but the courtyard didn't mean much. For some reason, after she died, that seems to be my single strongest memory of her when she wasn't sick. I couldn't say why.

So today, I went on a charity "heart walk", on that campus. On the way out, I stopped by the art building and visited the courtyard. I don't remember back that far very well, but as far as I can tell it's barely changed. I had a flood of emotion that kind of hard to describe: Not happy, not sad, not even nostalgic. It was kind of like when you've been to a matinee and walk out into the bright sunlight. But instead of light, it was raw memory. Weird.

In other news, anyone who knows me in real life knows about my impulse purchases. I present evidence of my latest folly: