Although I love the way Catching Days looks on the computer, I love love love the way it looks on an iPad. If you have one (or the next time you see somebody using one, borrow it for a second), take a look.
It’s kind of weird that the blog looks different depending on what you’re looking at it. Maybe it’s like the difference between paperback and hardback. What do you think?
Among other places–and I’m trying to discover which ones–Ecole Champlain, the French camp in Vermont where I spent three summers–1970, 1971, 1972–is a place that now seems mysterious to me, as if it’s withholding secrets instead of holding memories.
In an interesting symmetry, I have now revisited three times as an adult–in October of 1996, in July of 2001, and a week ago, on July 3rd–this last time with more openness and intention than the other times. Curiously I think this openness comes from writing over the last six months without intention.
It’s as if there’s a surface that I’m trying to get below or a window I’m trying to see through.
In a recent post, Lindsey at A Design So Vast, wrote about the spaces that hold our memories:
Sometimes physical space seems so mute, so indifferent; it surprises me that somehow the important moments that have transpired in a place don’t remain there, echoing, animate, alive somehow. Maybe they do. Occasionally, in returning to a place that hosted an important moment in my life, I can feel that moment, hovering, bumping into me, invisible to the eye but not to the spirit.
Do you have places that call you back?1st post in 4-part series on Ecole Champlain: Part 1: places that call us back Part 2: hoping to discover Part 3: proof Part 4: writing my way there