Something I wrote in my I am also painfully aware that I have live in a narrow band of my life because I regularly return to the metaphor of self as iceberg. In several months, I Let me brainstorm some memories, true or false, and see what this process jogs At about 10 pm, as I was returning home in a taxi from Kidd Creek Mines, At the end of grade 8, a girl I had a mad crush on was moving to Texas. I When my younger sister, who was 8 years younger than I, was born -- my other There was a summer in which 3-d glasses were all the rage. I went out to These days, I like walking by the elementary school in our neighborhood, The mundane has taken on a magical tinge. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Something I wrote in my blog almost two years ago: I am also painfully aware that I have live in a narrow band of my life because I have seemingly forgotten most of what I have ever known or experienced. … Continue reading
\n blog almost two years ago<\/a>:<\/p>\n\n
\n I have seemingly forgotten most of what I have ever known or experienced.
\n I say "seemingly" because on occasions, sometimes in ephiphanic
\n moments, I have glimpses into my past -- memories of snow crunching underneath
\n my boots in cold, cold Timmins, of gym classes I hated, of classmates who
\n have gone to places I know not where. I am an iceberg and only the surface
\n is apparent to others and to myself.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
\n turn 37. I often anticipate the future and obviously have no choice but to live
\n my life moment by moment in the present. As I lose more and more of life to
\n the past, I become increasingly zealous about accessing my memories. Writing,
\n I suspect, will be a primary tool in my remembering process.<\/p>\n
\n in me.<\/p>\n\n
\n after working really late, I looked up and saw colourful splotches of light
\n in the sky. Things didn't seem right at first. What was that stuff? I then
\n realized that it was the first time that I ever saw the northern lights (aurora
\n borealis). I'm surprised that living in Timmins that the aurora borealis isn't
\n more common. I've not seen it since.<\/p>\n
\n wrote a card and bought her a present and walked several miles through the
\n "suburbs" of Timmins to say goodbye. On occasion, years later, I'd
\n wonder what had ever happened to her. I even did a few google searches, though
\n I never paid for a PI to track her down. But I never found out where she is
\n now.<\/p>\n
\n sister and I ran home to see her on her first day out of the hospital. I remember
\n her lying in her crib. How I wish to remember more about that day.<\/p>\n
\n buy one of those cheap pairs (with the paper frames and flimsy filters), eagerly
\n waiting some flick about a gorilla in a zoo. The show was so disappointing.
\n Not only was the story line lame but the 3d efforts were terrible. Why did
\n we get so excited?<\/p>\n
\n peeking in the windows. I like to say proudly that I don't care about my own
\n surroundings since I'm a man who lives inside my head -- but what is it about
\n the brightly lit, extremely colorful, rich immersive environment about the
\n K-6 classroom that calls out to me? I daydream about Queen Elizabeth Public
\n School, where I attended K-6. There were two floors -- and I'll have to come
\n back to all the images that are surfacing for me even as I try to transport
\n myself there: gyms on the north and southside, a big (oak?) tree on one corner
\n of the yard, cleaning the chalk erasers one afternoon, school buses parked
\n in a row, walking towards home and then turning back to see the school (now
\n why did I turn around?), the things I did during recess by myself for many
\n years, where the principal's office was, distributing valentine's day cards.\n <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n