Again.

There are the memories of making of a photograph, and then there is everything that comes after. All of those times you turned to it for whatever it originally meant. Each time it transforms under your gaze, it becomes what you need it to be (or the last thing you need it to be, depending). Every viewing adds another layer of obstruction, building and changing and shifting its meaning. Sometimes that all gets peeled away and you are left with that original feeling, but more often than not you are left with a response caked in meaning with no quick and easy way back. You could start sanding it down and remove the strata—but everyone hates sanding.