“the memory of a particular image is but regret for a particular moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fugitive, alas, as the years.” – Marcel Proust
This year, I am taking on the monumental task of reading Proust’s entire 7-volume novel, Remembrance of Things Past/In Search of Lost Time. I am currently on Volume 3, “The Guermantes Way.” While I’m taken with many writers, including Samuel Beckett, James Joyce, and Virginia Woolf, Proust’s words move me in a way I can only describe as looking in a mirror – his ruminations on memory, passions and hyper-sensitivity reflecting my own troubling and haunting thoughts. Above are the final words of Volume 1, “Swann’s Way.”
The Hungry Artist 