Saturday, March 27, 2021

Memory Shifts


I've been working on a new art project which involved series of cards with art, and sometimes haiku, poetry, collages, etc. One series involves UFO sightings. So I wrote this little poem awhile ago; I included it in my series:


enchanted ,though uneasy 

we watch the sliver sphere

shooting beams of light

above the pasture

Jim read it and asked if it was about "the thing you saw in Dexter." 

found that an interesting response for a couple of reasons. One, I had about a dozen little pieces like the above about various sightings, one involving a triangle UFO I saw. In Dexter. This poem mentions not a triangle, but a sphere.

And two, when I told Jim that no, this was about the spinning silver sphere we saw on Lorane, he had no idea what I was talking about. 

In the past, he has remembered. We saw a rotating in place sliver sphere, complete with a beam of light shining on the pasture below. He was driving; he stopped the car. We watched if for a minute or so and then, abruptly, Jim said "Let's get out of here." And we did.

But the other day, after reading this and my reminding him of that sighting years ago, he had no memory at all. 

I'm fascinated by this. How we remember, what we remember, why we remember . . .

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Hey, Regan, it's Barbara.

Zak seldom sees any of the weird stuff that I see. But there are three instances where he saw the little lights with me. He used to remember all three, but now, he only remembers two.

He remembers the first time he saw one of the little lights--how it bobbed around and looked like a laser pointer dot of light, but there was no beam connected to it--and there was nowhere for it to be projected from. That was in our bedroom.

The second time was the lights in the woods all around our house after he played Native American flute. It was freezing cold and there was snow on the ground and suddenly, after he played it looked like there were blue LED lights strung through all of the trees and they all came on at once. The whole group of us there saw it happen and it was...magnificent. He remembers that.

But the third instance, he doesn't remember at all. He and I had come back to visit Athens with a pair of friends who also had moved to Maryland. And we stayed at our friends' parents home.

Blue lights burst into being in the guest room, lighting the whole room up and I laughed. "The lights are welcoming us back home to Athens," I said to him. He went from window to window to check to see if the light was coming past the blinds, but of course they weren't. And then, of course, they were moving around the room, like laser pointers but again, without beams.

We both went to sleep with the lights bobbing around the room.

He remembered that for about twelve years, but when I checked with him this year, he said he had no memory of that last instance.

We talked about it and he believed me that he had remembered it, but he just couldn't dredge that memory up from anywhere.

So strange. But he theorizes that its more natural for most humans to forget things that exist outside of normal every day reality than to remember it.