Venetian Blinds

I've had this image knocking around in my head for the last week or so. It arose as the tiny memory of sitting in my grampa's room; I was probably 8 or 9 years old, staring in awe at the sight of shadows of tree branches dancing over the slats of his venetian blinds.

Venetian Blinds. I love them.

Simply put, they are (sometimes) wooden slats held together by cords and some sort of pulley-system. They cover windows, allowing varying amounts of light through them depending on which way you adjust the cords. They allow us to look out, but—depending on how we adjust them—protect us from the gaze of others.

To me, they mean so much more. 

Not just a memory of my grandfather (who I honestly don't even remember being in the room, although I'm sure he was or I would never been allowed in there), but of the beauty and mystery of memory itself.

So much of what we remember of our lives is  like those shadowy branches. Like a tree in the wind, memory seems to wave at us from the screen of our mind, carrying the images we've gleaned from the outside world. Yet unlike the actual tree, our memories are never really its branches. They are only the shadows left behind by the people and events that came before.

Although he died nearly 30 years ago, I can still see my grampa’s face so clearly. I can hear his laugh. I can picture the twinkle in his eyes when he would announce that he bought ice cream snowballs for us because he knew they were our favorites—although I knew even then they were his favorites, and that our visits offered him a rare chance to eat them without suffering a lecture on the care and feeding of diabetes from my grandmother (which she sometimes delivered anyway).

I can still see the Venetian Blinds in his bedroom, shimmering with the light and shadows they drew into the room.

I have a feeling I'm going to be playing with this for awhile. I can already feel the churning of ideas and images nearly ready to pour out onto the page. I have a feeling I'm going to be peering out through a lot of venetian blinds. 

But that's ok--I have them in every room of my house!

 
https://c2.staticflickr.com/8/7428/10129022593_0c51393af4_z.jpghind them.