Wednesday, October 15, 2008

with thanks to Wendell Berry

Thinking about his travels, his tour buses, his picture postcards, his piles of Euros and pesos and lira and Deutsche marks, and he realized that his memories were all of movement: of the lurch of the bus in traffic, the steady drone of the train, the flurry of people around a fountain, the stomach dropping descent onto the tarmac. Of his journeys, what he craved was motion, and no 35mm film camera would give the rush of discovery, the harsh bump of the ferry, the movement of curtains in an evening breeze.

He needed to capture movies, with or without the supplement of sound; the sense of physical escape could only be held by the fourth dimension. His vision altered; he examined the room with a sense of purpose born neither of research nor memory.

reading Julian Barnes "Nothing to be Frightened of"

weather a bite of things to come