But I believe above all that I wanted to build the palace of my memory, because my memory is my only homeland.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
When my father was assassinated, I decided that I would not compete with his memory, but the priority would be to achieve his dream.
Memory is the treasure house of the mind wherein the monuments thereof are kept and preserved.
I have found that all of my memories seem to need a place and that a good part of what we think of as explicit memory has to do with location.
I'm proud of what I achieved there, but a life built on memories is not much of a life.
Even as I think of myself as a 'rememberer,' I also know my memory is probably doing all this work to reconstruct a narrative where I come off better.
It is curious to note how fragile the memory is, even for the important times in one's life. This is, moreover, what explains the fortunate fantasy of history.
My greatest inspiration is memory.
My childhood memories include a time when the government confiscated my family's possessions and exiled us to a camp in the B.C. Interior, just because my grandparents were from Japan.
You can't live in history. You've got to build for the future.
Memory is a fiction we tell ourselves: just a piece of the truth.