November 7, 2021
There are moments when I feel like I am traveling through time. Like through some sensory anchor I am granted the ability to be in two places at once. Is that memory? Maybe not such a phenomenon then - if this is what it’s like to remember. Did I, at some point along the way, learn to feel a moment so entirely that it could be felt time and time again? In June, when the sun shimmered against sidewalks and city streets were sizzling, I kept thinking I was back in Siem Reap where the heat has a pulse, where summer meant rainy season - bringing shampoo outside and waiting for that first rumble of thunder. And water would fall, women would laugh, soap would foam at our feet as we showered in the daily downpour. It’s moments like this that make deja vu feel like magic - snippets of something so specific it seems impossible to live it twice.
