Last week, my writer-wife Patty and I taught some classes at Shake Rag Alley Art Center in Mineral Point, Wisconsin. As you can see in the above photo, the grounds of Shake Rag Alley, with their lush gardens and nineteenth century historic buildings, are perfect for sitting outside to do some drawing and writing.
One of the activities we give students to work on is to write a series of instances, beginning with the phrases I remember/I don't remember/I'd rather not remember/I've been told. It's a great activity for stimulating memories of moments that come to be braided together in almost poetic ways. One of the best examples of that came from participant Wendy Moylan, who kindly agreed to allow me to post it here:
Yellow
I remember the old wedding shot, my grandpa lighting a cigarette in the flower girlās mouth.
I donāt remember if heās smiling or gravely playing the joke.
Iād rather not remember that he erased all stories in his barn.
Iāve been told he chose a shotgun over cancer.
I remember my momās mint plant, the iced tea made for it, and the vegetable garden with corn stalks.
I donāt remember the planting, only the harvest.
Iād rather not remember the cold beets and warm milk or dadās chain smoke as he waited for my clean plate.
Iāve been told that, when his dad died, his hard sobs were surprising.
I remember struggling with scissors, my sisterās hands helping my paper skeleton smile.
I donāt remember when her freckles faded.
Iād rather not remember my dadās weight on my shoulders as I played walker to the bathroom.
Iāve been told my brother surprised everyone with a pet snapping turtle.
I remember my dadās headstone at the end of the Arlington row: two Memorial flags instead of one.
I donāt remember how I got there, among the rows of teeth.
Iād rather not remember the gun salute.
Iāve been told my whole family jumped at the first shot.
I remember standing in a field of red poppies growing wild.
I donāt remember where.
Iād rather not remember anything but this.
But an old photograph laughs and tells me, It was the Arizona desert. And the poppies were yellow