In our minds, the wheels turn, playing our memory tracks over and over again. They get scratchy. Begin to sound dated. Begin to sound foreign. And yet, in remembering, we continue to identify with past times. Past versions of ourselves, even as we evolve and the wheels turn and churn and burn for new recordings. Like the girl from the movie, The Ring, our past selves haunt the tape spools of our minds, and yet we can’t resist watching, even in horror. Continue reading “Re-remembering”