A Blast From My Past

A Blast From My Past

Last week after writing the column on photo storytelling I decided to take my own advice and browse through all the family photos I scanned last summer. I looked at pictures of my Mom as a young child and saw pictures of my own childhood. All of a sudden I...

Last week after writing the column on photo storytelling I decided to take my own advice and browse through all the family photos I scanned last summer. I looked at pictures of my Mom as a young child and saw pictures of my own childhood. All of a sudden I spotted one of me as a pre-school age child sitting on a couch intently working on something. What was IT?

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I didn’t know right away. So I kept browsing through pictures and discovered I had other images taken on the same day. They are all snapshots.

I went back to this picture and tried to think about the folks in the other images in the roll, where it was taken and when. All that thinking triggered a memory flashback. Suddenly I could remember that day and what I was doing. I was playing with my favorite toy–A Wooly Willy. I remember spending hours working on different mustaches, beards and hairstyles. Drawing the iron filings across Willy’s face with my pen magnet. (Here’s the proof, I was into thinking about pictures at a young age!)

A picture memory flashback is a funny thing. All kinds of things come to mind. The sound those patent leather shoes made on the kitchen floor, the shushing noise that dress made as I twirled around, and the painful curlers my mother used to achieve those curly locks.

This holiday when you’re dragging out boxes and albums of pictures don’t forget to share the pictures and stories of your own childhood. Pay attention to the details in the picture and those in your memory. As for the year of this picture– I’ll never tell <smile>.

If you’re wondering what happened to all the pictures you’ve submitted to this space, I’m working on a blog calendar. If you haven’t heard from me you will soon.

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  1. I also loved the Woolly Willy. The possibilities for what you could do with those little iron filings seemed endless. I’ll bet we still have a couple of those in the basement. The other thing like that that I loved were those gray plastic sheets on the black sticky background that you could draw on with a sharpened stick. Thanks for stirring some memories!