Every so often it finds you again... she said.
Something inside me has been craving words. I have been ravenous, reading with a hunger that has been unsatisfied. Then it found me again and I can't help but savour each word, each image, each carefully crafted phrase.
There are some books that stay with you. No matter what. You can't leave them behind.
Mine is Fugitive Pieces. It is hard to describe the heart strings this pulls at. I haven't picked it up in a long long time. Today it fell into my life again.
"The shadow past is shaped by everything that never happened. Invisible, it melts the present like rain through karst. A biography of longing. it steers us like magnetism, a spirit torque This is how one becomes undone by a smell, a word, a place, the photo of a mountain of shoes. By love that closes its mouth before calling a name."
Something inside me has been craving words. I have been ravenous, reading with a hunger that has been unsatisfied. Then it found me again and I can't help but savour each word, each image, each carefully crafted phrase.
There are some books that stay with you. No matter what. You can't leave them behind.
Mine is Fugitive Pieces. It is hard to describe the heart strings this pulls at. I haven't picked it up in a long long time. Today it fell into my life again.
"The shadow past is shaped by everything that never happened. Invisible, it melts the present like rain through karst. A biography of longing. it steers us like magnetism, a spirit torque This is how one becomes undone by a smell, a word, a place, the photo of a mountain of shoes. By love that closes its mouth before calling a name."
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