Life is an accumulation of memories. Nothing less, nothing more. The richness and diversity of life is represented by the richness and diversity of those memories : people, places, objects, feelings. The spoken word, the written word, the image : all are aide-memoires, the index cards of life.
Photograph of my mother sat in my fathers' Hillman Husky. It is a posed shot, my mother never drove a car in her life. It was probably taken in Blackpool or Bridlington : most Sundays they would head for the coast and park "on the front". They would leave home early in order to find a free parking spot and return home early in order to miss the tea-time rush. My mother would look out to sea and think who knows what. My father would walk around the car checking for tiny scratches or places where the chrome had not been shined to mirror-like intensity.
If you look carefully at the reflection in the front hub-cap you might just make out two figures. One of them would be my father, the director of the shot. The other will have been me, the young photographer. The wind is blowing in from the Irish sea - or the North Sea - and the airborne sand is finding crevices to settle in. It's a vivid memory. It is life.
Life is an accumulation of memories.