Lost and Found

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Photo and text by Maja Gratzfeld

Lost and Found

At some points of my life, during certain circumstances, I am often recognizing things that I forgot to be aware of. By the time I crash into them, I ‘m not sure what’s more exciting about them… Isn’t it the pure action of “lost and found”? Memories which are connected to the past, to persons or to an object, which suddenly blow up?

Lost things can be anything. Start with a tiny note of my sister that I found while cleaning up my house, or the light-blue bag that I used to carry with me, while shopping at the small organic market in my neighborhood. Sometimes I just discover a small street that I didn’t use for a long time on my way to work. Or when I switch randomly between channels, while watching TV and suddenly I bump into my favorite movie from the 90’s.

The variations are endless, but the result is always the same little feeling. A feeling that leads us back to moments and happenings, which are saved in our unconsciousness, and just waited to be rediscovered.

Thousands of pictures can show up and fade in a second after. We hear laughter and talks of people, we knew and loved, or still knowing and loving. Or we shiver as we discover the parts of our life, we wanted to be forgotten; The first time being love sick, the bad mark in French class, our first camber from our first bike, the wrong perspective after we found ourselves on the ground, the pain in the knee, and at last the relieving smell of cold, wet grass during autumn time.

The chain of reactions, towards the memories is mysterious and I’m unable to control the order or the time, nor the way it is showing up, but it gives me the chance to live this moment again, to discover them again and call them my own. This is the part of my life which belongs just to me. Something I can share or keep it secretly as the dairy I use to have.

When I look back 5, 10 or 15 years backwards, I do see that things changed. Some of these “Reminders” became less important and some essential, but nevertheless they all made me what I am today. Everyone left a stain on me. A stain that I wear proudly, as it gave me the opportunity to practice and to discover life and first off all to remember what I did.

Everybody can find inspiration from these moments. We can welcome, even the bad ones, and integrate them in any part of our life. Present, future, or any of our creative processes are good places to store them, to give them a great revival. To share a memory, gives everything and every person a special place in our life. A place they deserve, because they are walking or walked with us for a while. Even a lovely object should be appreciated for serving us (my old teddy- it was a sheep though, or the Wu-tang clan poster from my former room).

To live these parts of our life again, by speaking about it with others, or by simply recalling it, is a real source of being and inspiration. Let them crash into you and share them with others, your inspiration or simply just with yourself.

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