'I yearn for a magic camera that can photograph memories.’ Bernard Levin, ‘Enthusiasms.’ 1983.
Mum passed me the paperback version of 1984 when I was on holiday in the south-west of France with my girlfriend. We shared notes. I drew her back then.
Twenty years later, I come across a hardback copy on the shelves of the Abergavenny Arms, Rodmell, and it brought back a flood of memories and further notes on what my enthusiasms were by then.
Prompted by his example, I began compiling my list of enthusiasms—not merely as a catalogue of interests, but as a map of obsessions, fascinations, and recurring passions. Some arrived on impulse, others through work or study, but all have left their mark.
From swimming pools and sailing the British coast to Pre-Raphaelite paintings and Victorian fairytales; from the Sea, Rivers and Castles to Dr Who, Truffaut and Michael Nyman; from war memorials and obscure museums to road signs, roundabouts, and the serendipity of research—I’ve chased these enthusiasms across books, landscapes, screens, and decades.
Twenty years on again, and with a copy of Enthusiasms on its way to be £4 from Abe Books I will be able to indulge further still. This quote already has resonance.
'I yearn for a magic camera that can photograph memories.’
Today we have this magic camera. I use GeniGPT and Adobe Firefly. I write a prompt, often with ChatGPT's help. I may include a photograph or sketch. Not only can I bring memories back to life, but I can also reconstruct moments in vivid dreams with extraordinary accuracy.
This is me, as a young man, next to an E-type Jag I never owned (though my late father had one he very, very rarely took out of the garage). I am outside an imaginary California home visiting my late father. He died in 2001. He never lived in California! But my dream imagined otherwise.
Try it.