Everything is Illuminated by the Aura of Nostalgia

"In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine."

- Milan Kundera

Nostalgia is a fascinating subject. From the Greek compound of "return" and "ache". An ache to return to a home that may or may not physically exist. An idealized form of a home much longed for. It's been a recurring theme in my thought process and in my writing. The sentiment is both comforting and destabilizing at the same time, because what it seeks to attain is in fact unattainable and only exists in the deepest caverns of one's being or imagination. It's like the dream that can never be realized. I'm really at a loss for words when it comes to describing what it means to me, nor am I a good enough writer to convey its deeper impressions on myself.

Most things we find extraordinarily beautiful and inspiring stirs the nostalgia within us. Images can heighten this sense; sounds, smells, tastes, touch - when all of our sensory faculties tingle and cry out with the familiarity of another existence or a belonging to something beyond our immediate perceptions. Memory is a different thing - it is our consciousness; where nostalgia seems to be of the subconscious.

What I associate to a memory, or how I remember something is where nostalgia can enhance or dilute its very nature. When I am creating, I try to tap into this subconscious void. At times when I am looking at a newly completed drawing or painting I think, "where the hell did that come from?" I like to believe that I had dug something up from another life. I'm not talking about reincarnation. Not at all. I'm talking about another impression of the same life that had stayed silent until that moment. And even then, the detail is still unclear and dream-like.