Wednesday, April 22, 2009
I’ve been thinking about a perspective drawing my husband had to do during his first year studying architecture. It was a complicated mass of lines extending from different points to form the object. I think it was a 2-point perspective, but it could have been a 3-point perspective. It is fitting that I cannot properly recall. The drawing had been penciled onto a large piece of wood that had first been painted white. Lines and lines of grey lead crossing over a white background.
My memory of an event/object/place is formed from the points at which I viewed/experienced the moment, and another person’s memory of the same moment is formed from the unique points at which that person viewed/experienced the moment. Maybe, depending on who is doing the remembering, no memory is correct in the same way that every memory is correct?
I think I am going to begin a novel. I think I am. Rather, I may have already begun a novel. Memory is what I have been thinking about. How differently will my characters remember the same event?
I did my own perspective drawing while I was studying landscape architecture. It was simpler and sloppier than my husband's. I drew the Donnell garden, a residential space I’d long admired and that I ultimately visited. I know that perspective drawings are no more easily constructed than are one's memories.
I can’t find the drawing itself, but above are some of my montaged photos of the Donnell garden.
SONG: Modern Girl, Sleater Kinney