Three wise monkeys on the windowsill.

The other day, I thought I'd start off by just writing down quite briefly a description of the house, before doing a few drawings. (Because it's y'know, an art project.) This ended up being two sides of writing, done a bit at a time over a few days... It was quite tiring trying to write everything down, which I hadn't really anticipated.

I don't think this means everything I can remember can be contained within two sides of my handwriting - it was more of an orientation exercise, something to help me work out exactly what I could remember and which bits I had forgotten. I was quite surprised that I managed to turn memories of each separate room into an almost-complete plan of the house. (At this point, it might be relevant to admit that although my attempts to remember on purpose everything exactly are perhaps one of the most poignant aspects of this project, I do realise that I can remember some parts better than others just because I spent more time in them.) The image of a page of writing maybe illustrates something about the process, and the difficulty, of remembering.

I'm going to take the plan with me, and see how accurate I was.

The two polaroids are from one of the last summers we visited, when my dad had just got a polaroid camera from work - so there's the back garden at my grandparents' and then me around the age I was when I last went inside the house there. They're on the bookshelf in my room.
Right now, I need to make sure I know where to get the bus from...