Memories are a funny thing. I look back at certain events or times, and wonder what it was that made a certain scene memorable, that gave it such staying power.
With childhood memories, the question evokes a stronger response – owing, perhaps, to the idea that a memory resonates with more emotion the more distant it seems. There’s something inspiring and captivating about looking back in your subconscious and finding a picture of yourself at a younger, more exciting age.
There I am, 20 years old, turning a corner outside of a Paris cafe, and bumping into the Prime Minister. There I am, 18 years old, sweating under the bright lights of my high-school…