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We tell ourselves stories in order to live… We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely…by impression of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the ‘ideas’ with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria–which is our actual experience.
Tags » Joan Didion
Lucinda Crowden and Jacob Antolini at my reading of Muffins At the Death Café
On a day following the death of Nelson Mandela, when everything seems greyer and less substantial, I’m writing this post conscious that anything I produce may seem trivial and irrelevant. 1,095 more words