The weather says snow this weekend. It will be our first snow of the year, not counting some flurries that could have been optical illusions. And I'm looking forward to the quiet slow-fallingness.
I read this earlier in the week week and thought I have a similar relationship with certain books. They become flagposts in my life, hooking up to my real world experiences and even seeming prophetic, at times.
"Novels, for me, are horoscopes. I don't know if they're true before I read them or after; if they predict my thoughts or direct them; if I make fiction fit my life or if my life takes the foggy shape of it. Or it's more interesting not to know." Sarah Nicole Prickett
... I immediately and especially think of Unbearable Lightness of Being. I read it in my first undergraduate year. It wasn't a book gifted to me or recommended, or that I fudged my way through a conversation about and later scrambled to read. I walked into Waterstones and simply bought it. I finished it in the smoke-filled break room of my university job and still remember feeling like I couldn't work afterwards. I reread it every few years and it still is that horoscope for me.
These synchronicities between art and our individual lives intrigue me. The magic of timing. And the randomness of it (yes, I'm still thinking of randomness). How we lean our identities against things both internal and external and build relationships with objects and places, books, music, art. And I suppose as a writer I hope that something I pen might become part of somebody's life in that way, though I don't really expect that.
I also liked this interview because it was a mark of that same kind of synchronicity. I'm not much a believer in meant-to-be school of thought in anything. So understanding and acknowledging these synchronicities without elevating that idea to a sense of determined paths is important to me. And I think it's all the more beautiful without that fatefulness because it does seem more like arbitrary, unguessable magic.
Yes, I'm still thinking about thunderbolts... And happy weekend, friends.