Kōbō Abe meditates on the reasons the mind craves routine: “It goes on, terrifyingly repetitive. One could not do without repetition in life, like the beating of the heart, but it was also true that the beating of the heart was not all there was to life.”
Grief can arrive on a gust of wind, a glimpse at a calendar, or a half-heard snippet of conversation on the street.
Slow-motion strings and liturgical drones from Athens, Greece.
“I often wonder why people torment themselves as soon as they can.”
