Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Importance of being earnest

I was about 11 or 12 when I first laid eyes on it. Mum was browsing through the furniture store for a greyscale cabinet and all I could think of was the sculptured horse of transluscent rock but RM700 was a hefty pricetag for an 11-year old. These days I wander round looking for something that might bring back that once-in-a-lifetime stir but though I have seen and added equine pieces to my collection, none have satisfied the way a memory could.

There was a yellow, detached house with hexagon-shaped windows in Hui Sing which I've hankered after since I was 9. When I recall it, I not only remember the double-storey windows and indoor balcony, but also mandarin classes with Mrs Foo and being told that to prepare for a wedding takes a year (a horrifyingly long period of time to a 9-year old).

That's the problem isn't it? For how can anything or anyone compete with a memory? The deceased wife, the loved-and-lost significant other, the smell of flapjacks on a winter's day.

There are many memories I have created by will; the hanging up of a Christmas sock, drinking hot chocolate on a mountain side, sipping tea lounging in a chair, curling up in a remote cafe with a good book but often the memory doesn't feel like what it looks like.

I guess one just has to keep on creating memories in the hope that one day it will feel like what it looks like in my head.

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