I recently read a quote by Marguerite Duras.
“A writer is a foreign country.”
How true! We’re as diverse as the cultures of the world, as different (and complex) as France is to China.
Some days I feel as though a member of the allied forces – unified and well supported, networked in a broader form of patriotism. The sense of power in terms of accomplishment is almost tangible and I can do anything—nothing can stop me. Other days I feel as remote as a tiny island-nation wherein the only one believing in me is myself.
There are so many ways in which to interpret Duras’ insightful quote. I suppose that’s why it’s now one of my favorites.
Father’s Day is coming up on Sunday. As I’ve reflected back on memories with my dad who is now in heaven, a particular thing kept popping into my mind. That of the first song I learned on the piano, which he taught. Each of my siblings also learned the same first piece. It’s forever special.
In viewing videos on the various renditions of Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, I found this method the most unique. It’s an advertisement, but a beautiful one. Here’s the link: