Double Entry Notebook

Well I'm looking in front of me at this photo of a 1935 Red Ford Truck, remembering how much I wanted that car when I was 15, learning how to take a photo spread (whatever it's called) for my journalism class. And I never got the car. It has bug eye front lights, wheels stand out to either side. A grill that looks like a hawk's open mouth, something to give a 5-year-old nightmares if it wasn't for the glossy red coat, candy apple red, literally - I know that's a cliche, but what do you do with a cliche if it's true? Above the car are two ticket to the Dallas symphony from a Star Wars themed night, and I remember that, too. It's strange, all the things we remember in half bits, and...I don't know. And what else? There's a sticky note that says "Everyone's a Whore for Something" because I had a friend who got in trouble at her high school for wearing a shirt that said that, even though all the overtly suggestive Abercrombie shirts were fine. I guess I'm describing my picture board. There are two feathers from a seagull, also, although I don't remember getting them. Oh, this summer, at the beach cabin, I picked them up and tried to use a spaghetti sauce bottle for an ocean scene, but the bottle still smelled like sauce, so the feathers and shells and sand smelled like tomato, too.

COMMENT ON MY OWN RAMBLINGS:
Stick to the beach cabin scene. It's not a bad idea to describe some things surrounding the feathers, but then focus on those two small feathers. From the two feathers comes a big scene - they're just the entry point for the story. Then describe finding the feathers, and make it up if you can't remember. Include the whole family waking up to watch the sunrise, mom and dad's mud coffee smelling great, getting me out of bed. The powdered donuts I bought and mom ate, because she hadn't had them since she was a teenager. How anxious I was to leave. How beautiful it was every morning, but I only woke up the one morning, because I stayed up late at night reading and talking on the phone. The ocean sounds like traffic in a cell phone, and vice versa. I don't know where it would go from there. Maybe make up some big understanding, or epitome? Walking to the donut shop? Driving around, the conversation with mom - I'd forgotten about that. Maybe.