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martedì 19 febbraio 2013

The Road Reader

I am reading a very special book: L'Oublié, by Elie Wiesel. I have just started but I can already feel the depths of the feelings described. I bought this book on a quick trip in a bookshop, in a period when I find it hard to feel "in tune" with whatever book I read. About Elie Wiesel, I only knew he won the Nobel Prize for peace and that he wrote a memoir about his endless days in a concentration camp.



L'oublié is about many things: love, memory (and forgetfulness), connections between people, roots, loneliness. I was looking for quotes to post on my blog when I bumped into "">the book reader", an Italian young writer who walks along the streets and reads aloud from books. I think it's a great idea, to share books and thoughts like this. There should be more road readers in the world!

lunedì 11 febbraio 2013

Such a long, long time


Such a long time away from my blog.

I have been teaching in a high school in my hometown since September, and this new job, together with all the practical changes it has brought about, has given me so many thoughts, emotions, feelings, and so many outbursts of enthusiasm and disappointment that I simply haven't been able to concentrate on anything else since I started. What could I say? It is my dream job. It's the most wonderful job, and the hardest, too. My whole emotional world turned upside down, I feel old and young at the same time, strong and unbearably fragile, positive and doubtful, eager and frightened, all at the same time.

Another big change is Kenji and Midori, our cute, wonderful cats. When they nestle on my lap purring themselves to sleep I wonder how I could possibly wait so long to welcome them into my little world.

“Holding this soft, small living creature in my lap this way, though, and seeing how it slept with complete trust in me, I felt a warm rush in my chest. I put my hand on the cat's chest and felt his heart beating. The pulse was faint and fast, but his heart, like mine, was ticking off the time allotted to his small body with all the restless earnestness of my own.”

Haruki Murakami