I’ve been reading a lot of Haruki Murakami recently. There are certain authors that always seem to be available in the bookshops here. Murakami, Coelho, Hesse… Good. A few of my favorites. They all capture that certain spirit of travel. They all employ magic. Murakami in particular balances this line of reality and dreams. By the end the dream/parallel universe is so muddled with reality your not sure which is which. For all that I didn’t understand, I think I fully understand. Being inexplicable pulled to people. Guided. Trusting a plan. I’ve been feeling that way about my own life recently.
Maybe that’s all this life really is, just memories and dreams.
Here’s a bit of Murakami for you:
“…Like you’re on a train traveling across some vast plain, and you catch a glimpse of a tiny light in the window of a farmhouse. In an instant it’s sucked into the darkness behind and vanishes. But if you close your eyes that point of light stays with you, just barely, for a few moments.”
~Sputnik Sweetheart
No comments:
Post a Comment