We went up to Portland for a week, my son graduated from Lewis and Clark, or at least he walked with cap and gown , he needs to complete one last French requirement, despite doing Physics. Its a Liberal Arts College and I am glad they have a language requirement, makes for a more rounded education. While we were there, we visited the Pittock Mansion, built by a newspaper magnate who owned "The Oregonian". As we walked through this huge house, there was much debate about the furnishings , not all of them were original to the house, some true to the era, were from different families in the locale. If you didn't have this information ,you might assume walking through the house that it was all historically accurate. It struck me that our memories are very similar, in our own lives we recreate the past and change the stories and refurnish sometimes with other people's belongings.
What memories are truly ours? We have all had the experience of seeing photographs of ourselves as children and having memories around that photographed event, did we truly remember or was this a created memory. For me there was an oft repeated story about how as a very young child ,I ate rat poison from one of the cowsheds on my Auntie Maribel's farm, there was much panic and amazement ,centered I think on the fact that this poison was bright blue and did not look at all appetizing. I now believe I remember this story, but truthfully I am not sure. I really think that this interest in alternative viewpoints is why I am so interested in series in my work , because I can show more than just one version of the truth.
