I started reading a biography of Margaret Wise Brown by Leonard S Marcus and this quote leaped out at me:
As the author of more than fifty books, Margaret later observed that memory, the ultimate source of her creative work, is a “wild and private place,” a place to which “we return truly only by accident” — the writer’s inspiration — “as in a dream or a song,” or by “beaten paths” — the writer’s craft. Whatever the method or the path, she was convinced that “as you write, memory will come out in its true form.”
I was recently in Putney, VT (my childhood home) for a memorial service for a dear family friend who lived a wonderful, full life. The service stirred up a lot of thinking about childhood and memory and part of why this quote resonated with me is that I had this feeling that childhood (so linked to memory) is a wild and private place that we return to only by accident.