Tags » Reminiscence

What If

Disasters in love always send me back into reminiscence about missed connections – about those once-off encounters, fascinating conversations and deep instant connections with a stranger I will never see again. 672 more words

Music

A Korean Flashback #1: Where the Kitties Get No Pity

Lately a few fellow early birds I run into as I make my rounds between seaside sunrise and coffee shop have asked how the morning’s snapping went and then hit me with “So, what do you with the pictures?” And I always mumble something about the blog, and personal satisfaction, and more tangible options along the line when I have some money — but mostly what I do with them is edit. 1,055 more words

Korea

Welcome

Hello, I’m David Savill. I’ve worked for almost 20 years to develop the creative practice of Reminiscence Arts – the term I devised in order to help the arts establishment better understand that reminiscence by the teller naturally lends itself to and is at the heart of, creative expression. 125 more words

Posts

A memory like a sieve

Etch, v.

be permanently fixed in someone’s memory

Mia brushed a tear from her eyes as she left the house, looking back at it one last time. 525 more words

#life

Training Partners: The Karate Kid

11/23/14

I met the Karate Kid while we were actually training in Capoeira. A SoCal boy, like in the film, he had that laid back attitude and beach boy looks.* Some say he looks like a certain movie star, others say that he looks like my younger brother. 1,330 more words

Narrative

Entry 5: Comfort Zone: On the Other Hand

Okay, it’s official, I can’t maintain an hourly schedule even if it kills me (I was very hungry yesterday).

So I got to reminiscing about my past as “short-pants Louis”, and among my scattered pieces of memories were: Barney the Purple dinosaur, Bill Nye the Science Guy, Sesame Street (huh, maybe I watched a bit too much TV as a kid…), and nanny tutoring me before I got into grade school. 635 more words

Pencil

My Yugo Affair

The used Ford Fiesta I purchased in Queens, New York in 1987 was a lemon. The previous owner wasn’t trying to cheat me out of $600; neither of us know how worn-out the car really was. 1,460 more words

Reminiscence