The thoughts of memories...

I will admit I am not very good at remembering.

I should clarify that when I say this I am not referring to facts and figures, dates and responsibilities, but memories. I am forever listening to friends and family say, "Remember when...".

I sincerely have to admit I don't.

Oh, it is all there in the filing cabinet that I call my brain, but it is never easily recalled... I eventually find it, although it usually needs a photograph, a sound, a smell, or a conversation as a primer. 

Once remembered, I am always a little sad I am not able to recall and savour my memories so easily.

In my life I have been privileged to have known wonderful people, have travelled enough to understand the complicated love hate relationship that comes with it, and have seen places and things that have taken my breath away — I've developed relationships that have defined me as a father, a friend, and as an inamorato. There is nothing I have to complain about so far... it has been a good life.    

Except of course, maybe my ability to easily remember it.

This is definitely something I must work on; for no other reason I suppose than the thoughts of memories yet to be made.

I really do need to read that book on mindfulness.

iamgpe

Don't ever think there isn't something bigger than yourself...

The air was silent and cold, and the sun was bright. I made my way along the path and there was the hint of spring in the air. There was something majestic about where I was, and that shortly there would be a dramatic transformation. In the mean time though, I walked carefully through the snow to limestone caves that had been there long before any human memory. It didn't take much imagination to grasp the immensity of it all.

Soon enough I would be back marketing something, looking to finance something, trying to broker "that deal", sell something, or buy something, but in that moment, I was a detail in something bigger than myself and it was out of my ability to control. And although I didn't fully understand it, I knew I had every right to be there.

Soon enough I was back in the car, and with little fan fair, I knew I was better for my walk in the forest before it woke.

iamgpe

Where will your passion take you?

Vincent Van Gogh painted Starry Night Over the Rhone ar Arles wearing a straw hat with candles in it — this offered just enough light for him to paint by. It must have been quite a sight for anyone who cared to watch him atop the hill as he painted. Little know outside the Avant-garde art movement of the time and having sold very few paintings in his lifetime, Van Gogh died in poverty never to see how his paintings would come to be some of the most valued in the world.

Starry Night Over the Rhone ar Arles by Vincent Van Gogh

As I stared at Starry Night Over the Rhone ar Arles on the wall of the gallery, I was inspired not only by the beauty of what I was looking at, but the imagery of someone in the dark creating something so beautiful while no one was looking. And having the passion to do it over, and over, and over again.

iamgpe