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The Big Sea

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When I think of lost narratives, I think of the stories that aren't passed down to or between generations. The stories that aren't said in between drags in a gas station parking lot, or the stories you think about when you look at a person across the way in a subway car. Or,t he stories you think you know, but you really, really don't know them at all.

Ignorance is not bliss.

This photo reminds me of all the stories, memories, and experiences that I've never had, and possibly will never get to have in the future. It's a photo scanning the border of Miyajima Island in Hiroshima Bay. The water, much like the shores of Galveston, is murky and deep. As we sailed into the docking station, I wondered about the people who protect the shrines and keep the traditions and legends of the majestic tor-ii gate. How do they work to keep those legends alive? Is there a constant effort of rallying listeners to hear how the tor-ii gate came to be? Or is it much simpler than that?

Maybe those stories never became lost at all.



There's a requirement of participation between the narrator/storyteller and narratee/listener in order for a story to remain alive, and found. But there's a part of me that believes that there aren't any "lost" stories--if we've heard, seen, or read it somewhere, we know it, right? It's not the same as a forgotten story, or a story that's undergone so many revisions or alterations that we miss out on the vibrancy and attraction of the original. Then again, I'm thinking that the process of forgetfulness and loss go hand-in-hand when searching for lost stories. All in all, I think it boils down to perception: which stories do we believe to be lost to us, forgotten to us, or both?

Take Bing Bong from Inside Out, for example. 



Bing Bong strives to keep Riley happy during her younger years. He makes her happy, and her happiness is his pride and joy. Their rainbow-powered legendary wagon took them everywhere she wanted to go. But then....Riley got older, and Bing Bong was forgotten. On top of that, his stories became lost to Riley, and I think that's why Bing Bong's character development is so powerful. We all recognize and understand what it's like to both forget and lose, and to forget a story/person/event. But do we, as narrators and storytellers put as much stock into thinking about our own lost narratives/stories?

This is a topic I think I'd like to explore in a global context: what are the lost narratives of travelers, and how do we recognize and appreciate those narratives/stories once we find them? How can I use my travels overseas and encounters with others to inform readers of this dilemma?







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