book review
Bluets
Two hundred and forty numbered fragments on the colour blue, written by a woman caught between her own heartbreak and a beloved friend’s paralysis. By every law of literature it ought to be insufferable; instead it is the most lapidary thing I have read about wanting something that is already gone.
what it left me with
Grief without a shape will drown you. Grant it an architecture, a colour, a ledger, a numbered devotion, and suddenly it becomes a weight you find you can carry.
this is one entry from a wandering list of films, books, shows and albums, kept by someone trying to live a slightly more deliberate life.
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