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I have an appalling memory. Each time I read an old book, it's joy and wonder all over again, like I have never seen it. I do wonder, what would I be like if I was not so forgetful.
"Had we no memory, we should never have any notion of that succession of perceptions which constitutes our self or person." David Hume
When I go to house clearances I am always attracted to the plates. Plates are common. Everybody has plates. They get used well. They are very personal: chintzy, white, retro, etc. They are laden with specks somebody else's life: a chip on the left, a mark on the ridge.
When I get these used plates, I have an urge to scrub them scrub them scrub them to rid them of the traces of their previous owners. Is that possible at all?