12th Annual Smithsonian.com Photo Contest
The happiness was an emptiness I
All of our best and worst memories live in a fickle, beautiful haze. They are the most clear of obscurities; they exist in foggy images, and half-remembered feelings. The constructions of ourselves that we make from our memories are that only of chosen and interpreted truths. Even if memories are all inevitably distorted and idealized, I remember what I felt.
Truth is a choice that is inadvertently self-governing and perpetually self-affecting. Belief is both autonomous, and conditioned by choice. It is choice that changed Jean-Paul Sartre’s privileged situation into a perfect moment. My memory of this day is that of a perfect moment.
I remember the silence, it’s importance, and my fear of breaking it. My mind was empty. It was a feeling of nothing. It was emptiness. I remember the happiness, and I remember the champagne.
© Forrest Wasko.
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||Nov. 20, 2014, 6:32 p.m.