|Inmates II by Jackie Karuti|
|Sylvia Plath & Ted Hughes (husband & wife in my shelf together)|
|That improv reading spot in the studio|
In regards to more contemporary work, I'm looking for a Haruki Murakami. Yes, the uber awesome writer from Kyoto. Short stories, poetry, novels...anything. But I'll be one happy lass if I can get his latest book, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki & His years of Pilgrimage. I dare you to not acknowledge that awesome title.
Seriously though of late I've been drawn towards coming of age stories like John Greens's Alaska that highlight lots of rebellion, teen angst, anarchy, raging hormones and that awkward stage when you can't seem to fit in anywhere. I thought I was just a late-bloomer, which I totally am, for devouring what most seasoned readers and writers would term as mindless teen pulp at my very advanced non-teen age. I beg to differ. For some reason this books mean so much more to me now than they would ever have when I was that age. And isn't that the point ultimately? To read something that stirs up something inside you, to read something that disturbs you, to read something that evokes emotion in whatever form and yes, to read something that makes you feel infinite...?
|Book installation , Where Books Go to Die, 2014|