The There There Letter: Memory, Mataro, and Mudlarking
Three things from DAH.
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, Memory …
Ah, memory. The root of remembered joy and guilt. The key to aha moments, when we suddenly recall or realize something -- when we feel as if we've made a connection between the current moment (whatever we're thinking or talking about) and our bank of memories. For good or ill, of course, neither your memory nor mine is a reliable guarantor of truth or fact. "Happiness isn't something you experience; it's something you remember," said Oscar Levant. Since memory didn't evolve as a perfect recording device available at all times for instant and accurate recall, I suppose we could make all memories happy, if we wanted to. Sometimes I want to.
What you need to remember about your memory
Second up this week, Mataro …
A few evenings ago we enjoyed a Three Wine Company Old Vines Contra Costa Mataro. We really enjoyed it. I can think of three reasons for like this wine from Three: First, I like the ripe style of Three wines; Second, I like Mataro (also called Mourvedre and Monastrell -- it's likely of Spanish origin, and thrives in warm climates); Third, this wine only exists because we in California forgot about the grape variety, and the sandy-soil vineyards of Contra Costa County. Because we have faulty memories, we can still discover wonderful wines from century-old vines at quite reasonable prices (based upon their rarity).
An SFChronicle piece about an old-vine Contra Costa vineyard (I love the Three Zinfandel from this vineyard)
Third up this week, Mudlarking …
I'm just finishing up a book called "Mudlark" (or "Mudlarking" in Britain) by Lara Maiklem. Its US subtitle is "In Search of London's Past Along the River Thames" (the English subtitle is "Lost and Found on the River Thames"). It's a lovely read, all about the time-triggers found in the mud of the Thames foreshore. Before I began the book, I hadn't thought why this should be a big deal. Plenty of cities have rivers and plenty of detritus has been tossed in them over the centuries. But London is 2,000 years old, and the Thames is a tidal river (unlike the Seine in Paris, for example). The tide moves in and out, shifting and revealing and burying what's been dumped into it. At low tide, the foreshore reveals little bits of the past, hints of lives from hundreds of years ago. The mudlarks seek out these little treasures when the foreshore is revealed. This is a marvelous story of how to look anew at a place, and how a differently considered life may be lived.
"The foreshore is the closest thing to a time machine that I can imagine."
A little bit extra:
"But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end."
Those are the closing lines of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 30. You can read it HERE (it isn't long).
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, Memory …
Ah, memory. The root of remembered joy and guilt. The key to aha moments, when we suddenly recall or realize something -- when we feel as if we've made a connection between the current moment (whatever we're thinking or talking about) and our bank of memories. For good or ill, of course, neither your memory nor mine is a reliable guarantor of truth or fact. "Happiness isn't something you experience; it's something you remember," said Oscar Levant. Since memory didn't evolve as a perfect recording device available at all times for instant and accurate recall, I suppose we could make all memories happy, if we wanted to. Sometimes I want to.
What you need to remember about your memory
Second up this week, Mataro …
A few evenings ago we enjoyed a Three Wine Company Old Vines Contra Costa Mataro. We really enjoyed it. I can think of three reasons for like this wine from Three: First, I like the ripe style of Three wines; Second, I like Mataro (also called Mourvedre and Monastrell -- it's likely of Spanish origin, and thrives in warm climates); Third, this wine only exists because we in California forgot about the grape variety, and the sandy-soil vineyards of Contra Costa County. Because we have faulty memories, we can still discover wonderful wines from century-old vines at quite reasonable prices (based upon their rarity).
An SFChronicle piece about an old-vine Contra Costa vineyard (I love the Three Zinfandel from this vineyard)
Third up this week, Mudlarking …
I'm just finishing up a book called "Mudlark" (or "Mudlarking" in Britain) by Lara Maiklem. Its US subtitle is "In Search of London's Past Along the River Thames" (the English subtitle is "Lost and Found on the River Thames"). It's a lovely read, all about the time-triggers found in the mud of the Thames foreshore. Before I began the book, I hadn't thought why this should be a big deal. Plenty of cities have rivers and plenty of detritus has been tossed in them over the centuries. But London is 2,000 years old, and the Thames is a tidal river (unlike the Seine in Paris, for example). The tide moves in and out, shifting and revealing and burying what's been dumped into it. At low tide, the foreshore reveals little bits of the past, hints of lives from hundreds of years ago. The mudlarks seek out these little treasures when the foreshore is revealed. This is a marvelous story of how to look anew at a place, and how a differently considered life may be lived.
"The foreshore is the closest thing to a time machine that I can imagine."
A little bit extra:
"But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end."
Those are the closing lines of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 30. You can read it HERE (it isn't long).
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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