My love for reading fiction is negatively correlated with my age. When I was a kid, I would remember bringing home shortened versions of classic novels from the bookstore. I had a ton of them. You name it and I’ve probably read it.
As I grew up, things became very different. Fiction became literally fiction to me. It was too out there. Too perfect. It’s just one of those moments where you don’t know how it happened.
But then now, reality isn’t really that different from fiction. There are only moments. And most of my cherished moments in Kyoto are spent with nature.
Haruki Murakami is the only Japanese writer I know, which makes him my favorite by default. I plant to read all his books while I’m here. I didn’t even know he was born in Kyoto until I searched him on Google. Anyway, I’ve just finished reading Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman about a couple of hours ago. It was a fascinating collection of moments. There’s still some beautiful weirdness in there, if you know what I mean.
Here’s this week’s time lapse. I tried something new today by splitting one sequence into different vibes.
Like and subscribe!
Comments are awesome!