Everywhere I live I have a big box that silently but firmly hides memories. Memories of visited cities, visited monuments, visited sights from all around the world. These are unorganized memories. Just thrown into the box as they arrive home. No selection, no categorization.
They all have been carefully selected when they were kept.
They all have been carefully categorized when they were chosen.
Occasionally, this box opens. Usually on days, when memories need to fuse with the present. This box is filled with emotions. I don’t recall any bad memories revitalizing itself from this box; No! No bad, all good. But these good memories have a power. A tantalizing, energetic, vibrating power that easily grasp your present and drags you back to the past.
To memories so sweat that your heart beats faster. To memories so happy that by the touch of a long used metro card your tears find their way to your eyelid. To memories still so vivid that your past embraces your present even tighter.
Lovely heartbreaking, happily sad moments are these; when the box-lid opens.
Call me sentimental; I will agree full heartily.
This box belongs to me.
This box contains such useless things as tickets, luggage numbers, torn (probably outdated) maps, gallery leaflets, show posters, but it also hides some business cards of people, who might not remember me but, for some reason, I needed to keep them in my life, a receipt of a delicious gelato in Rome or the most fantastic cheesecake in New York. It hides cards that meant something to me in that particular moment; notes, sketches, quotes, thoughts and feelings that took me away from daily life for a few minutes.
I have this box since I first traveled alone. I was 15. I flew to Madrid for 4 weeks. I was young and eager.
This box knows more about my desires, wishes and interests than most of my friends.
By today, this box contains the memories from over 30 countries and 200 cities.
I am lucky. Very lucky.
But I am also human.
And while I am thankful I am incurably insatiable.
I am human.
I want more; I want more tickets, more posters, more maps.
I want more boxes. I want more memories.
Today, additional memory shreds arrived to their final destination.
Touching these papers made me relive moments so vividly that I spent my last 2 hours re-watching myself discovering the streets of Orlando. Philadelphia, Washington and New York.
I am lucky. But I remain eager…