I’ve had a lot of trouble writing today, and then I remembered this. I don’t even know who to link to for this idea. I know Elisabeth wrote one – and Peter – and Carol – and… I don’t know who else. The prompt is from Linda Rief – that much I know. Here it is:
I was born in Cincinnati, but I don’t remember a single thing about it and as far as I know I’ve never been back. I don’t really remember Panama, either, but sometimes I can feel the memories at the edge of my mind, like the way I was fascinated by the iguana at the zoo in Texas – how I didn’t want to leave and pressed my face into the glass and no one else understood and I had to leave anyway because I was just a kid. Or like the day in France when I tasted mango again for the first time, and I was suddenly back in the jungle for just a second and I almost knew it, but then I was back in Strasbourg, and for the first time it felt like a disappointment. Which didn’t happen often because I loved almost everything about being in France. I remember that intriguing boy with the long hair talked about Paris and said, “even if your heart is broken, you’re broken-hearted in Paris and that makes it better” and I had never been broken hearted but I thought that made sense or at least sounded very romantic. And I remember the way that Justin’s cigarette smoke swirled back towards me and into my hair as he was driving us all home in the van when I was in college, and even though I didn’t smoke, and even though I knew I didn’t like smokers, the smoke seemed somehow sensual and I realized I thought he was sexy and I had no idea what to do with that.
Persistence and Pedagogy 
Rambling? More like jet-setting, at least until those last, languid details. Bravo for persisting to the other side of writing trouble.
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Ah, a romantic cliffhanger that begs a follow up. Those memories that hang at the edge of one’s mind tease and frustrate. I wish I’d known them how important it is to document in the now. I certainly feel the appeal of Strasberg after an extremely short visit there.
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There’s something honest and vulnerable about this format of a rambling autobiography. I like the details that live on the “edge of one’s mind” as you all say. But they are so sensory and concrete. Love it! (Tam Truong)
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This is stunning, really. You take us on such adventures. And hugs to iguana girl in you.
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This is an amazing piece. I have tried to write this form for years (After I heard Linda present it at writers at work YEARS ago) I keep trying in my notebook but yours is an inspiration!
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I love this slice, Amanda! The images in each section of your rambling autobiography are vivid and made me pause to savour them. Thanks for posting this piece!
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This is a cool slice. The memories are like the smoke wafting through the years and the van. I too, have an early address that I only recall through photos that document my presence. Probably also have the echo memoirs that only register when other images appear.
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