In the middle of watching Wicked at the Apollo Victorian Theatre, I found myself wishing I could remember every single moment. I wanted to recall the emotion on each face, the tempo of every song, and the feeling behind each line. I wanted to remember every word of the story and songs. But Wicked is not like a book or a movie that I can return to time after time. It’s not something I was allowed to take a picture of. All I have is my memory. I could see it on video, if I found a way to buy a DVD that would work in America, but it would lack so much of the experience that I want to remember. The CD, though I love it, doesn’t capture looking at my friends as we were in Oz together. The moment was uncapturable.
We stood as a groundling in the Globe. Like they stood five hundred years ago, we watched the Taming of the Shrew. (A very different version than the one they saw half a millennium ago) Some rather unfortunate smelling people rubbed against us. (They have a different version of personal space) Our legs grew tired. We bounced to keep from falling down. But the actresses looked right at us. The lines flew like the pigeons that would circle down to visit. The sound echoed perfectly off the wood. Helicopters hovered overhead, different (I imagine) from in Shakespeare’s day. This was another uncapturable moment.
In the very beginning of our Westminster Abbey adventure, I tried to read every single stone. I can buy the books with the pictures of the graves, but in books or online, I can’t seem to find the grave I saw of the lady who addressed her reader and talked about death. This lady was not extremely important to history. Well she did enough to be buried in Westminster Abbey, but other than that, she is quite fully forgotten. And I already forget so much of that beautiful quote on her stone that I told myself I would remember. That moment was also uncapturable.
I try so hard to capture every moment of this trip. Through pictures and words, I am on a quest to record every emotion, sight, decision, taste, and smell. Sometimes, photography is allowed and I’ve got time to go back and write until my fingers hurt. But my words and pictures don’t do the London Eye justice. I can’t capture the exhilaration of shopping at Portebello Market with a quick picture. The pictures are fun, but sometimes they can take away. I can get so caught up in trying to capture the moment, that I forget to fully experience the moment. And many moments aren’t meant to be captured. Part of the reason we travel, the reason we live, is for those uncapturable moments.