The challenge for week seven of the 52-week photography project is to tell the story of something that is forgotten. I took several photographs which, to me, have “forgotten” stories to share. There are so many ways to forget. We forget things when we leave them behind. We grieve over those forgotten things. They become more than things. They are familiar and we are sad to be separated from what is familiar and cherished.
We forget, sometimes, to tell people who are closest to us how much we love and appreciated. We forget what love feels like when it’s lost and we are left with feelings of anger and even bitterness. Our anger spills over and we start seeing other human beings through the lens of our feelings of abandonment.
Sometimes, our forgetting is so great that we forget our values. We forget the most important thing: what makes us who we are. We have lost hope and we have become lost and, we fear, forgotten.
How do we reclaim lost hope?
These photographs tell the story of “forgotten.”
|The lost and found box at the Grand Island Dance Center. Things forgotten and left behind cause the box to spill over. The dancers have spun away from their things but, fortunately, the things stay there, waiting to be reunited with their owners.|
|A lone earring sits, unworn. Maybe, one of these days, I will wear a mismatched set of earring… two earrings that each are missing their mate.|
|Forgotten and left behind on Valentine’s Day. But this bear has not lost hope that love still exists.|
In 2012, my father, Roy Gerard, passed away. He is sadly missed. It is hard to lose beloved humans.
|Do I live in a lost nation? What kind of values do we hold dearest to us? Do we even know? The news lately has been painful to watch and to hera. It’s all about values that have been forgotten. Forgetting values is a deep loss.|
Although the “forgotten” theme seems sad and bleak, forgetting is sometimes a good thing. It smooths out the sharp, jagged edges of memory, which can be soothing. It means not holding grudges. Forgetting can be kind, if the thing forgotten has caused pain, physical or emotional or spiritual.
In “A Chorus Line,” the song, “What I did for Love,” is about forgetting the pain of being injured while dancing and remembering the love of the art of dancing. “I can’t forget what I did for love.”
Please never forget my appreciation to you for taking the time to read my stories.