Strip the Skin Off

The end of our exploring will be to arrive at
where we started, and to know the place
for the first time.
—T.S. Eliot

I've been thinking about memory and what it means to recall the past and how those recollections change in time. The same memory altered—reconfigured.

What does it mean to arrive back at where we started and to know that place?

For me it means erasing the layers I've pasted on top of the remembrance, the scales that dim the real and produce a created memory—momentary ephemera.

Perhaps, only after peeling away and releasing the created contortions do we arrive at the bare memory and begin to understand its place in the litany of our life.