Now Appearing For One Night

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RDP Wednesday: THEATRE

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Does your life really flash before your eyes just before you shuffle off this mortal coil?

I read an article where scientists and Doctors wondered if it might really be possible after they examined an EEG that was being recorded as a patient suffered a heart attack and died.

The Data in this case suggested that what they were seeing was the brain recalling memories in the same way a healthy living brain does.

I was intrigued- and I’m not a Scientist or a Doctor so I can let my imagination run wild here-

so in this thirty second window how did the Patient see his life? Old memories first? Were his memories appear in an  orderly fashion Or were they jumbled up  like  “A big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff” ?

For a split second as I read the original article I thought of my computer- and what it does when I transfer data- it works and works and when it’s done I get that message that says something about the upload or download being complete.

This is the part when I took that little step to the wild side and wondered, where then did all of that data in a dying brain go? It want’s to go somewhere, that’s what I think. The brain is storing and recalling memories but  for who? All those little brain cells know they’re in trouble and they’re trying to save- not the heart or the lungs but the memories.

It’s trying to save who you are.

Photot A.M. Moscoso

Maybe in the end we get to sit in a cool theater with red plush seats. Maybe the walls are plastered with fancy artwork. Maybe you get to sit there with a giant bowl of buttered popcorn in your lap and a soda and maybe the dogs and cats and the people who you loved the most that went on before you are there too-

and when the curtains go up, there on the screen is are  the stories that mattered to you the most- and you get to share that with them. You know to catch them up on what they missed and to remember how much fun you used to have together.

It’s a theory, it’s a dream but when it comes down to it, my guess and your guess is as good as anyone else’s- and just as valid.

One Line About Time

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For One Liner Wednesday I wanted to find art that played against the quote below, I think I did alright with these finds.

I hope you enjoy them and that they give you a little to think about.

amm

Little Clowns on Seesaw
Candido Portinari

Evenings are the beautiful sweet spot between the harsh light of the day and the dead darkness of the night. ~ Anonymous.

At the Moulin Rouge Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec1892/95

Hard Feelings Make For Easy Goodbyes

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RDP Tuesday: BEHAVIORAL

Gertrude Abercrombie

Remember that day I called you after the lockdown kicked in

and you said you were so glad I called because

you were locked up in a house with people you thought you knew

and instead of getting dressed up for work and rocketing down to Starbucks

before you hit the morning commute

you toddled from your bed to the chair where you kept the sweats you wore

the day before that didn’t smell too bad

and then you went to the kitchen,

made your  own coffee sat down at your kitchen table and went to work.

 

Remember that day I called you?

 

You told me how scared you were that this isolation could go on for years

that if your neighbors didn’t even say hello when you went out to get the mail

or you saw them walking their dogs

and then you realized that you weren’t speaking in complete sentences anymore.

 

I remember that day I called-

you talked without taking a breath for over fifteen minutes

and when you ran out of things to say

you thanked me for ‘being there’

and then you hung up.

 

Remember that day?

 

I never said a word, I never got the chance.

It’s like I was your  Facebook wall

and after you were done pasting words all over me and you were done

you clicked me off.

 

But if it makes you feel any better, I will never forget what you said

on the phone that day because

it’s the last time I will ever speak to you

and those conversations live  forever

carved deep

like sentiments on a gravestone.