The Word, Memory, Picture Association Thread

Some of you from the old forum will be aware of how this game is played already.

A poster posts a random word and the following poster post a picture that the word has unlocked from the memory, and if the posters wants a short description of that memory

I'll start: street

Well i will leave this one for you guys ....my brain is tapped out today

My favourite street,Portobello Road,I guess a road is the same as a street.I miss the
diversity and eccentricness of it all.

I think we already had thisgame in here Shine but it's always good to start a fresh

That Portobello Road reminds me of Cambdon Market in London.

And of course the canal running silently beneath it:

Camden Market reminds me of the smell of incense. I havnt been for a few years, but walking around the smell of the burning sticks is never far away.

Incense reminds me of a house I once visited in Hull many years ago. I used to go out with this lass, whose sister lived there with her boyfriend. The moment I walked across the threshold, you could smell the aroma of incense and various other fragrancies and drugs!

Your image reminds me of Bali,Im not sure why,Shine,Maybe it was the Magic monkey forest in Ubud .I travelled round Indonesia on my own ,the colours,wild life and general richness of the culture have always stayed with me.

Indonesia reminds me of Polish lass I used to go out with in London. She worked in Jakarta for many years, and used to wear a sari or whatever they're called indoors.

Shine wrote:

Indonesia reminds me of Polish lass I used to go out with in London. She worked in Jakarta for many years, and used to wear a sari or whatever they're called indoors.

I can't see you image,Shine,Im not sure why some don't work .is it of a sari?

For some reason the last two images I've posted wouldn't accept the normal image, and I've had to go through Photobucket.

I'd luv to play this, but i cant seem to dothe links for pics

Polish lasses remind of the evenings out I had, and still have with my 2 closest freinds. They both date polish girls A pub would normally be the choice for a night out :bounce:

That picture reminds me of the River Ouse in York and a pub, The Riverside King's Arms Pub there we used to drink in before going off to the races. The pub regularly was submerged during floods:

Your description,Shine reminds me of Cookham in Berkshire,the river I think and thus the Artist Sir Stanley Spencer.Im not too keen on some of his painting

That Painting Bella reminds me of the beautiful surroundings of Cambridge. I have visited both Cambridge and Oxford, and for me, Cambridge has the edge

Cambridge reminds me of Christopher Marlowe:

Christopher Marlowe
The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus
Act V Scene 1
Faustus
Was this the face that launched a thousand ships
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.

Kisses her
Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies!
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here I will dwell, for heaven be in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.
I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy, shall Wittenberg be sacked;
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colors on my plumed crest;
Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel,
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appeared to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azured arms;
And known but thou shalt be my paramour!

Cambridge reminds me of a night spent in a squat on the way to Kebworth to see The Stones and Lynard Skynnard.we were hitching and stopped off in Cambridge for the night on the way.On asking a guy if he knew where we could camp he offered us the squat for the night. Those were the days

We both did one at the same time Shine :shock:

Bella wrote:

We both did one at the same time Shine :shock:

We're synchronising again, Bella, in cyberspace!

Your desription, Bella, about being put up for the night reminds me of St Aignan in France, and returnig after many years, and being put up for the night.

Your Marlowe reminded me of this,Shine

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle:

A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold:

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning;
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

Marlowe reminds me of Faustus:FAUSTUS. Ah, Faustus,
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damn'd perpetually!
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come;
Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
O lente, lente currite, noctis equi!
The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd.
O, I'll leap up to my God!--Who pulls me down?--
See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament!
One drop would save my soul, half a drop: ah, my Christ!--
Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!
Yet will I call on him: O, spare me, Lucifer!--
Where is it now? 'tis gone: and see, where God
Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows!
Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me,
And hide me from the heavy wrath of God!
No, no!
Then will I headlong run into the earth:
Earth, gape! O, no, it will not harbour me!
You stars that reign'd at my nativity,
Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist.
Into the entrails of yon labouring cloud[s],
That, when you vomit forth into the air,
My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths,
So that my soul may but ascend to heaven!
[The clock strikes the half-hour.]
Ah, half the hour is past! 'twill all be past anon
O God,
If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul,
Yet for Christ's sake, whose blood hath ransom'd me,
Impose some end to my incessant pain;
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years,
A hundred thousand, and at last be sav'd!
O, no end is limited to damned souls!
Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
Or why is this immortal that thou hast?
Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true,
This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd
Unto some brutish beast! all beasts are happy,
For, when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements;
But mine must live still to be plagu'd in hell.
Curs'd be the parents that engender'd me!
No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer
That hath depriv'd thee of the joys of heaven.
[The clock strikes twelve.]
O, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air,
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell!
[Thunder and lightning.]
O soul, be chang'd into little water-drops,
And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found!
Enter DEVILS.
My God, my god, look not so fierce on me!
Adders and serpents, let me breathe a while!
Ugly hell, gape not! come not, Lucifer!
I'll burn my books!--Ah, Mephistophilis!
[Exeunt DEVILS with FAUSTUS.]
Enter CHORUS.
CHORUS. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burned is Apollo's laurel-bough,
That sometime grew within this learned man.
Faustus is gone: regard his hellish fall,
Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise,
Only to wonder at unlawful things,
Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits
To practice more than heavenly power permits.
[Exit.]
Terminat hora diem; terminat auctor opus.

Faust. Ah, Faustus,
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damn’d perpetually!
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven,	30
That time may cease, and midnight never come;
Fair Nature’s eye, rise, rise again and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!	35
O lente, lente, curite noctis equi. 1
The stars move still, 2 time runs, the clock will strike,
The Devil will come, and Faustus must be damn’d.
O, I’ll leap up to my God! Who pulls me down?
See, see where Christ’s blood streams in the firmament!	40
One drop would save my soul—half a drop: ah, my Christ!
Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!
Yet will I call on him: O spare me, Lucifer!—
Where is it now? ’Tis gone; and see where God
Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows!	45
Mountain and hills come, come and fall on me,
And hide me from the heavy wrath of God!
No! no!
Then will I headlong run into the earth;
Earth gape! O no, it will not harbour me!	50
You stars that reign’d at my nativity,
Whose influence hath alloted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus like a foggy mist
Into the entrails of yon labouring clouds,
That when they vomit forth into the air,	55
My limbs may issue from their smoky mouths,
So that my soul may but ascend to Heaven. The watch strikes [the half hour].
Ah, half the hour is past! ’Twill all be past anon!
O God!
If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul,	60
Yet for Christ’s sake whose blood hath ransom’d me,
Impose some end to my incessant pain;
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years—
A hundred thousand, and—at last—be sav’d!
O, no end is limited to damned souls!	65
Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
Or why is this immortal that thou hast?
Ah, Pythogoras’ metempsychosis! were that true,
This soul should fly from me, and I be chang’d
Unto some brutish beast! All beasts are happy,	70
For when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolv’d in elements;
But mine must live, still to be plagu’d in hell.
Curst be the parents that engend’red me!
No, Faustus: curse thyself: curse Lucifer	75
That hath depriv’d thee of the joys of Heaven. The clock striketh twelve.
O, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air,
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell. Thunder and lightning.
O soul, be chang’d into little water-drops,
And fall into the ocean—ne’er be found.	80
My God! my God! look not so fierce on me! Enter DEVILS.
Adders and serpents, let me breathe awhile!
Ugly hell, gape not! come not, Lucifer!
I’ll burn my books!—Ah Mephistophilis! Exeunt DEVILS with FAUSTUS.
Enter CHORUS	85
Cho. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burned is Apollo’s laurel bough,
That sometime grew within this learned man.
Faustus is gone; regard his hellish fall,
Whose fiendfull fortune may exhort the wise	90
Only to wonder at unlawful things,
Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits
To practise more than heavenly power permits. [Exit.]

I can't see your picture ,Shine,it's come out white :shock:

There was no picture it was only text, but I found another link, Bella.

Dr faustus reminds me of souls
"A Soul in Bondage", 1895


Much Madness is divinest Sense-
To a discerning Eye-
Much sense-the starkest Madness-

Emily Dickinson