Menosukhi Moments - revisiting the memory

One of the things about having had stuff packed away for three years is that when it is time to unpack we find all sorts of mind triggers there.

Towards the end of last week's postings I was falling into the trap of 'talking weather'. It occurred to me though, that I was very blessed througout my mid-winter search for a new home in Scotland.  The previous winters had all been desperately snow-bound and freezing.  Here I was getting mild temps, okay some wetness, but mostly really rather good climate for doing what needed to be done. Sydney winters could be as bad.

So now that I finally found my base, am enclosed in the warm and dry, why should the climate not rage outside these walls?

It promotes inner focus.  Plus a bit more unpacking.  Including the photograph collection.

Those of you who follow MY TAKE also, will know that photography has been a long-time (and remains to be) a passion of mine. Looking back through these though, it was a bit dismaying to find that most have not fared well from the ravages of existing in the physical world.

They still set off the memory and distant lands and adventures are recalled because of the presence of these photographic prints.  From the point of view of the technical artist, however, they are singularly disappointing.

This is in part due to insufficient care in their storage.  Mostly I would call myself a 'journalistic' photographer.  Recording for the sake of memory jog. If one doesn't keep there will be another to replace it.

Then there is the simple fact that photographic paper just does not have the integrity to last beyond a couple of decades.  That is why negatives were so much more important.  ...That said, I have yet to find the box in which I put said negatives... it's worrying. Could I have been so rash, in those moments pre-India, to have disposed of them. Certainly not intentionally.  Surely...  ???

Sigh.  It has to be remembered that all that packing got done in the shortest time possible and almost an entire household of stuff was dispersed in a matter of four weeks; and one was in the very fast grip of menopolyxinaemia.  It wasn't pretty.  It wasn't necessarily rational.  So the fact that I had, by the time of packing, fully embraced the digital medium (and therefore its potentially eternal storage) I strongly suspect the negatives did indeed get trashed.  The reasoning, it is dawning on me, is that when eventually this very moment came I would be forced to re-sort the 'collection' and keep only those which held deep significance.  The rest could be electronically scanned and thus transferred to the digital 'eternal storage'.

The trouble with this is that the scan is only as good as the original item...and some of these are so dim and dismal now, that I question the point in even trying to preserve anything of them.

Then I return to the basic point of personal photos.

Memories. 

Not being overly sentimental I have no particular need for the physical presence of these prints. As a blog-writer in need of material, they are fodder.  If I am to report, occasionally, stories from my life, these photos will provide a trail of evidence ensuring some degree of accuracy in the relating of the stories.

Thus, dear reader, I now embark on the tedious but necessary task of dredging the albums and bringing them on board the computer - and some of them eventually to you.

For the first year of this blog, with few exceptions, each Monday I brought you the tales of Jade Dog and Jasper Cat.  Each Monday from today the Menosukhi post will be prompted by these photographic jewels of other parts of life, and include scanned items. Finally I can get back to rather more of what this blog was set up for.  Meanderings down the avenues of history.  Not much of one, but it is mine own.

Here, for posterity, is the very first scan... oh surprise! It's the "J"s   &*<>