A cat, a photograph, and memory

Gatita, 1978

I do not even remember taking this photograph of Gatita. She must have been no older than a year, then. I found it when browsing thru my archives, although I was specifically looking for photographs of her.

It has been said, and written, that photographs became memories, taking over their texture, their depth. However, this is not the case in here, with this particular cat. I have no more than a handful of photographs of her, but the memories are, after forty years, still strong. I had not even remembered this particular image, I vaguely, looking at it, remember taking it. It brings no memories. The gentle bite of my knee, her looking at me from the top of the stairs as I left for work in the morning, scenes than there are embedded in my memory. They are of now.

Although it can be said that, because of the fact I had so little images of her allowed for the texture of memories to come forward. If this is the case, then the argument becomes circular: I have no memory at all of this photograph (therefore it did not becomes a memory), yet the memories I have of her are because there are no, or very little, photographic records of her.

Revision: grammar corrected.

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