This weekend, I finally got round to watching All Of Us Strangers. It is a brilliant film that I thoroughly recommend and open to interpretations. But the bit that resonated with me was the fact that Andrew Scott’s character, a writer, was trying through his work to reconnect with his past.
Thats so moving, Anna, and I'm so pleased that photo took you to this place. The ending made my feel a bit emotional. It's so moving that you loved your stepfather so much and you really capture the complexity of broken families - that his love for you would always be coloured by the loss of his son. I wonder if you have a relationship with his son now?
All of this and more from a photograph, Anna. I'm at that same point in life, trying to make sense of the past in order to move forwards. My daughter asked me the other day why they study history as a subject in school. She was moaning about an upcoming test, of course. "What's the point? Why isn't there, like, a subject called 'Future,' cos that would be, like, actually useful'" she said. We need to do a whole lot of living before we understand why we have to look back...
This is so true, Lindsay. And I think we don’t just go back once, but again and again, and those photographs mean different things to us at different ages.
Yes! I completely agree with that. I think that about memories, too. The way we recall them is so linked to the present day. Makes me wonder about our writing when we write the past because it's inevitable that our stories will be somehow changed or made different depending on who we are when we tell them. But then, maybe we are also changed for having written the past in a particular way? So many questions...
Yes, it’s fascinating. For example, it was only writing the bit in here about my mum bringing my headboard from my old house to out new house that made me put myself in her shoes, and think how she must have chosen with such care the pieces that would help me settle in better, and yet I don’t remember them now, only that brass headboard. Going back like this makes us see other people better, not just ourselves. And before I was a parent, I don’t think I would have considered how my mum made those choices about my bedroom. The difference between writing in your twenties and in your late forties.
Thats so moving, Anna, and I'm so pleased that photo took you to this place. The ending made my feel a bit emotional. It's so moving that you loved your stepfather so much and you really capture the complexity of broken families - that his love for you would always be coloured by the loss of his son. I wonder if you have a relationship with his son now?
I do yes, since I met him at the funeral, so something good came out of that day.
All of this and more from a photograph, Anna. I'm at that same point in life, trying to make sense of the past in order to move forwards. My daughter asked me the other day why they study history as a subject in school. She was moaning about an upcoming test, of course. "What's the point? Why isn't there, like, a subject called 'Future,' cos that would be, like, actually useful'" she said. We need to do a whole lot of living before we understand why we have to look back...
This is so true, Lindsay. And I think we don’t just go back once, but again and again, and those photographs mean different things to us at different ages.
Yes! I completely agree with that. I think that about memories, too. The way we recall them is so linked to the present day. Makes me wonder about our writing when we write the past because it's inevitable that our stories will be somehow changed or made different depending on who we are when we tell them. But then, maybe we are also changed for having written the past in a particular way? So many questions...
Yes, it’s fascinating. For example, it was only writing the bit in here about my mum bringing my headboard from my old house to out new house that made me put myself in her shoes, and think how she must have chosen with such care the pieces that would help me settle in better, and yet I don’t remember them now, only that brass headboard. Going back like this makes us see other people better, not just ourselves. And before I was a parent, I don’t think I would have considered how my mum made those choices about my bedroom. The difference between writing in your twenties and in your late forties.