Saturday, February 23, 2013

Speak, Memory



Speak, Memory

“There is, it seems, no mechanism in the mind or the brain for ensuring the truth, or at least the veridical character, of our recollections. We have no direct access to historical truth, and what we feel or assert to be true depends as much on our imagination as our senses. There is no way by which the events of the world can be directly transmitted or recorded in our brains; they are experienced and constructed in a highly subjective way, which is different in every individual to begin with, and differently reinterpreted or re-experienced whenever they are recollected. (The neuroscientist Gerald M. Edelman often speaks of perceiving as “creating,” and remembering as “recreating” or “recategorizing.”) Frequently, our only truth is narrative truth, the stories we tell each other, and ourselves—the stories we continually recatorgorize and refine. Such subjectivity is built into the very nature of memory, and follows from its basis and mechanisms in the human brain. The wonder is that aberrations of a gross sort are relatively rare, and that, for the most part, our memories are relatively solid and reliable.

We, as human beings, are landed with memory systems that have fallibilities, frailties, and imperfections—but also great flexibility and creativity. Confusion over sources or indifference to them can be a paradoxical strength: if we could tag the sources of all our knowledge, we would be overwhelmed with irrelevant information.

Indifference to source allows us to assimilate what we read, what we are told, what others say and think and write and paint, as intensely and richly as if they were primary experiences. It allows us to see and hear into other minds, to assimilate the art and science and religion of the whole culture, to enter into and contribute to the common mind, the general commonwealth of knowledge. This sort of sharing and participation, this communion, would not be possible if all out knowledge, our memories, were tagged and identified, seen as private, exclusive ours. Memory is dialogic and arises from intercourse of minds.”[1]


[1] Oliver Sacks, “Speak, Memory”, The New York review of Books, 2.21.2013, Vol. LX, #3. 

Cafe life...






Coolness no longer

          even a memory,

I stand

          naked and free;


not even a Jaybird.


Roko
Friday, 22 February 2013
Prospect Hill

coffee, tea and cakes...









Bloc 11


The pleasure of
               coffee, tea and cakes;

together after school
               father and two young sisters.


Kotatsu Roko
Friday, 22 February 2013
Union Square, Somerville

Resilient




Resilient

              moments

     Rise
             
                   buoyant

across a  Sea

                              of Love.



Roko
Friday, 22 February 2013
Prospect Hill