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Documentation
17 March 2008 05:09At the end of the film: "Under the tuscan sun" the main character is informed that "she got her wish", even though it may of not played out exactly as she invisioned. Events happen even late in the game, and what are four walls anyway--they hold the dreamer.
I'm working on this art-project, for myself. An altered book thingy of photos, letters, scraps of my past, fused in a small portable album, that is about 5X4, if that. The size of a standard photograph. What I enjoy is looking back at the images of places I've been, people I met, moments in time, and compare it to now. The present. And although its a facinating walk down memory lane, at times it feels like nothing but a big dream, or story, or movie. Something that doesn't seem possible that it happened. But it did. Some events have left permenant scars.
I took over 650 photos during the cruise, and shortly there after. Sent them over to Wal-mart, and have 635 photos in hard copy. Paper copy. A friend informed me that she hasn't even printed out any photos from her trip to the land down under and inquired what the hell I am going to do with that many photos.
They will eventually be sorted, put in an album or scrapbook, and housed on a shelf. Labeled, decorated with stickers, and the scraps of paper and other momentos that I saved will be added to the bunch.
Because there is nothing that beats curling up in a overstuffed chair on a rainy afternoon with a big cup of freshly brewed black coffee, and flipping through old photo albums from another place and time.
The rule of thumb in nursing: if it isn't documented, it wasn't done. Period. I document my life as a reminder that this hasn't been a dream, that this happened, that I remember.
I'm working on this art-project, for myself. An altered book thingy of photos, letters, scraps of my past, fused in a small portable album, that is about 5X4, if that. The size of a standard photograph. What I enjoy is looking back at the images of places I've been, people I met, moments in time, and compare it to now. The present. And although its a facinating walk down memory lane, at times it feels like nothing but a big dream, or story, or movie. Something that doesn't seem possible that it happened. But it did. Some events have left permenant scars.
I took over 650 photos during the cruise, and shortly there after. Sent them over to Wal-mart, and have 635 photos in hard copy. Paper copy. A friend informed me that she hasn't even printed out any photos from her trip to the land down under and inquired what the hell I am going to do with that many photos.
They will eventually be sorted, put in an album or scrapbook, and housed on a shelf. Labeled, decorated with stickers, and the scraps of paper and other momentos that I saved will be added to the bunch.
Because there is nothing that beats curling up in a overstuffed chair on a rainy afternoon with a big cup of freshly brewed black coffee, and flipping through old photo albums from another place and time.
The rule of thumb in nursing: if it isn't documented, it wasn't done. Period. I document my life as a reminder that this hasn't been a dream, that this happened, that I remember.