Memory and Me

My last post Authentication prompted many wonderful comments from you wonderful readers (are you feeling special yet? I hope so!). One reader in particular (Marc, this is you) ask me to share more about myself.

Me? You want to know about me?

I realized that blogging carries a versatile voice. I realized the tone for blogs is often more personal and vulnerable than the objective view I often bring to my articles for content websites.

Not better, not lower quality, just a different style of writing.

With that in mind, I looked over my About Poetic Parfait page. Marc was right. Not many personal details. I revamped the page. If you have already taken a read (oh come on), here is your pop quiz about me:

  • What country do I live in?
  • What is my favourite beverage?
  • What websites have I written for?

Are you three for three? If not I’ll grant you a hall pass today. Memory, got to love it.

I liken memory to the jam filling of a layer cake.

The Jam

The strawberry jam holds together two or three layers of breaded cake. The jam keeps the cake moist and adds additional flavor. Types of jam vary from cake to cake but without it the taste is dull.

Layer Cake

Jam and Your Mind

Yes, the mind is like jam.

We have minds that are shaped by our past experiences. Our minds and memory make us who we are today. Make us individual, tasty, confident, or possibly lack confidence. Our minds can retain lines of poetry that we have written ourselves and poems we read over the years.

Here is one of the first poems I memorized, “Nothing Gold Can Stay.”

 Robert Frost published the poem originally in 1923, however I wasn’t introduced to it until I was in high school. I read the novel “The Outsiders” and there it sat, looking coyly   at me, within a page in the book. Tempting me to divulge it the way I eat shortbread cookies still warm from the oven.

 The book quickly became one of my favorites. It still is today.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down today.
Nothing gold can stay.

© 1923 Robert Frost

Do you have a poem that you have memorized, or a certain line that keeps surfacing in your mind?

I enjoy your comments, thanks for the support!

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24 thoughts on “Memory and Me

    1. christyb Post author

      Marcy Marc, are you saying my brain is stickier than yours? I think sarcasm adds flavour, don’t you? Nice to see you here. Yes I am unraveling the layers of Christy with each post… stay tuned to the christyb channel!
      christyb

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  1. Julie Catherine

    Christy, I was 2 for 3 – probably because I’m a fellow Canadian, (just one province over from you, in Alberta) and love tea also …BC is stunning; I have relatives living in the Okanagan, as well as my best friend, who lives in Wells – and one of these days I’m hoping to move back into that area as well. I miss the mountains and water! I’m so grateful for your interest in and comments on my blog, thank you so much. And I’m going to side with Marc, who is (not so gently) giving you a bit of a push to reveal more of “what makes Christy Christy” – I’m intrigued! LOL. Wishing you a wonderful and “fruitful” new year! ~ Julie Catherine

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    1. christyb Post author

      Julie, How wonderful of you to stop by and to learn that you live so close by. *I am smiling*
      BC is beautiful, agreed. I have never been to Alberta but would love to hear more about the landscapes there. Perhaps in your future poems on your blog?
      You and Marc are ganging up on me. I am listening!
      A wonderful new year I wish for you.

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  2. doveydragon

    Hey Christy,

    Nice post. It has a fresh memorable appeal to it ! (Besides that its made me hungry …. Lol !!) It’s funny how little we actually know about people until we read post like this & begin to understand the in workings …

    By the way I had no idea where British Columbia was and truth be told nothing about the region, the people, the interests etc. (All the way from sunny South Africa ..;-) ..) But that’s the awesome thing its a whole new world ……like being a pioneer & learning about new exciting things …

    If jam is the mind ? What is the memory ?

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    1. christyb Post author

      Nice to meet you doveydragon! Yes it is wonderful how easily we can communicate over long distances. If jam is the mind, memory is the ingredients (condiments, fruit…). Another question: can the jam be substituted for peanut butter?
      christyb

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  3. stronghearted1

    This is delightfully refreshing .Both my taste buds and memory buds are at the surface.as it’s brought to mind a time when I was a child and my grandmother and I would go picking wild strawberries to use in making homemade jam .No store bought berries for her jam and oh the hard work involved !! Hot sticky and tiring work but I remember her sticky kisses the most.I love find nuggets such as your blog .

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    1. christyb Post author

      Thank-you Selena for dropping by! What a lovely memory. I am honoured that my post provided you to remember such a happy time. I am humbled by your praise.
      christyb

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  4. simon7banks

    A favourite line that keeps coming back? Three quotes in order of revenant frequency:
    1: Though now it seems/ as if some marvellous empty sea-shell flung/ out of the obscure dark of the rich streams/ and not a fountain, were the symbol which/ shadows the inherited glory of the rich (Yeats).
    2: She drove in the dark to leeward/ she struck not a reef or a rock/ but the combs of a smother of sand/ night drew her/ dead to the Kentish Knock (Hopkins)
    3: The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall forever/ But if you break the bloody glass, you won’t hold up the weather (MacNeice).

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  5. Paul B

    Excellent post. The first poem I memorised was ‘Strange Meeting’ by Wilfred Owen. I remember I was 17 in my A-level English class and we were set an assignment to write a short account of what we thought the poem was about. The next day in class it turned out that every single person had written something different and none of them exactly matched what Owen himself had said he meant when he wrote it.

    I remember that as the moment I fell in love with poetry because I realised that although no-one had got what the author had meant exactly, everyone was correct in their respective analyses. In the end I guess a poem means whatever you take from it. I still know ‘Strange Meeting’ and I read a lot of Owen. It stuck with me.

    One of my favourite poets is not exactly a poet as such – Paul Simon. He is one of the few musicians whose lyrics could actually be read as poetry and still hold their own, such is their power and beauty. There are too many examples to cite here, but as Robert Frost was mentioned in the blog (I think my fave Frost poem is ‘The Road Not Taken’ incidentally), I thought I’d leave you with this Paul Simon image, from the song ‘The Dangling Conversation’ –

    And you read your Emily Dickinson
    And I my Robert Frost.
    And we note our place with book markers
    That measure what we’ve lost.

    Take from that what you will 🙂

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    1. christyb Post author

      Paul, what a wonderful analysis. I love engaging others in reading what we will into the poetry we read. I want this blog to be interactive, laid-back, and interesting all rolled into one. Paul Simon has wonderful lyrics, perhaps I will feature one of his songs in my Tunes for Tuesday segment! Feel free to stop by any time.

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  6. Kavita Joshi

    awe this is so beautiful and so true if I think about it ….life is like that ..nothing stays forever so attaching yourself to it is not worth and crying for things in life will never help ..if its a bad time then it will pass and if its good time then it will pass too..so living in the moment and not attaching urself to things will make us less vulnerable to hurt in life…thanks for sharing this amazing insight dear Christy…

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