No reason for posting this, just feeling orange, my father is in this painting, near the center.

I am still finding all the places, nooks and crannies where my mother resides, springing open into a million memories, I suppose since they can only be mine, what is springing open is my own mind; Like when the scent of orange peel evokes something more than the taste of oranges.

2 thoughts on “Memory

  1. Thank you Penny. I am surprised at times by the persistence of memory, even though I should not be. Watching my grandson with his mother, that connection and his little brain, such a sponge, forming what is reality and the foundation of a sense of self in the world, I know that it is an almost cellular type of memory, the memory of ones mother. So why should it surprise me?

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