how a memory fades...
that after taste, the lingering of an impression and its soft focus, in the degradation of a moment truth is revealed. the birth of a memory as the senses are woven together to be stored in a vessel for remembrance. an image, prepared to accept new elements, as colour takes on a kind of aroma one can taste, the atmosphere is infused with the silence of a distant echo, motion implied by gesture, and time irrelevant, it is warm here and familiar, a bridge to the past. all this richness stands ready and willing, to be accessed by triggers, markers we make or learn or stumble upon, ready to breath again, as it does now... the red cloak sings over emerald water, thick like fresh milk, light trying to deny the existence of shadows, those Gondoliers and their familiar exchange... an old friend one sees at a glance in a habitual embrace this welcome haze lifts... how a memory fades.
