With Ean still in the womb I was diligent in playing music I grew up with, music I related to and felt to be “home”. Everything from Swedish folk music to Motown… all of that which was a part of me and my upbringing (well, the positive things anyway), I felt a natural need to pass that onto Ean.
It wasn’t until today when I really dissected this thought and idea that I realised the triviality and pointlessness of it. My memories are mine and the only reason why I have a special connection with the music, food and isms that I’m trying to pass onto him, all of them are special because they are just that… MY connections.
My generation hears 8 bit music and just the mention of Nintendo makes me giggle. We spent hours trying to beat those damn levels and bosses. The long Swedish summer days that never seemed to end (which they kind of didn’t except for a short dip into darkness for an hour or two) and the snowy winters, all of which bring back a lot of wonderful memories that I shared with my friends and family. But here we are, in Malta. The sea is right under our nose, it never gets cold and 8 bit Nintendo is now an acquired taste with a bittersweet taste of nostalgia. Continue reading