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It's story time
I read a story by Sherwood Anderson, in his book of interrelated short stories called, "Winesburg, Ohio". I really love those stories. They are the most ambiguous, soft and subtle stories I have ever read. They leave me with a vague feeling that is hard to express. I don't know what they mean; I don't know what's happening sometimes. But they're great. I think they reflect well the nature of exisitence, if I can be so lofty. The unthinkable, the unknowable, the morphous nature of feeling and life itself, that we try so hard to pin down and categorize, and own. When we see a nice picture, are we happy because we like the picture or because we have some memories that connect to the picture, which in turn start off an infinite succession of other memories, some related, some not? It's impossible to know exactly why some things attract us or repel us,isn't it? So, I want to write a story like this, that flows into the ocean...
Time to squint, play the guitar and drink tea.
posted by PA on Wednesday, July 07, 2004
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