The danger and 'always this: to look and not see, hear and do not listen.
But if - as suggested by the new book by Banana Yoshimoto - the life and 'made to accumulate memories, if the' now 'and' once-and-such a time as unique and individual, then you need to alert our senses, focusing on what 'that surrounds us avoid boredom, distraction and routine. With a mocking compromise lose sight reality 'of things.
hour lost in the complicated trafficking of Florence at rush hour has nothing to envy the exotic bustle of the suburbs of Damascus, it 'the open dumps in the vicinity of Rome have nothing to teach the accumulation of litter along the streets of Syria and Jordan. The fascination with light and to express these particular participation, as thoughts aloud about unique events and as such etched in memory, only then is the capacity 'of the writer, in making a smell, taste, noise, or even within of light in pure emotions existence.
Happiness', the wonder, sadness or nostalgia are part of the game only if we can again be masters of our time. Then have time available, as in the case of a voyage, promotes the deepening of our senses, the awakening of our powers of observation, the desire to create memories. And everything, with the passage of time (Banana suggests) becomes wonderful, no matter how tragic or terrible it may have been in reality '. In this "journey called life" objects acquire their magic only at the end of their short lives.
One page of the book took, however, 'a nostalgic reflection:
"Not long ago I went to Okinawa, and I stop on a coral beach. All'impovviso and I 'came to mind the face of a friend who collects shells and coral, and wondering if there was someone who could please her I started to seek out a bit' ... small objects, perfect, dry lines that meet your taste, I thought, and I 'came a great desire to see her. Are infinite and different ways to spend your life .. I will not ever forget it. "
I often thought of Ilaria, ultimately, knowing what things she likes and what not. In a time of great nostalgia I bought a little red raincoat, an identical copy of which I knew like her a lot, and often was even the subject of the request on his part. Cosi 'in a world of people dressed black and gray I proceed with my red waterproof, silent witness of a friendship that continues to the detriment of liquid distances are impossible to fill. And I think of her, than she would have liked. With tears in his eyes.
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