Sputnik Sweetheart - Haruki Murakami. 그리고 아무말도 하지 않았다.

... And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they're nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.

... We each have a special something we can get only at a special time of our life. like a small flame. A careful, fortunate few cherish that flame, nurture it, hold it as a torch to light their way. But once that flame goes out, it’s gone forever.

... Don't pointless things have a place, too, in this far-from-perfect world? Remove everything pointless from an imperfect life, and it'd lose even its imperfection.

... So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that's stolen from us - that's snatched right out of our hands - even if we are left completely changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to the end of our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of insurmountable emptiness...

Maybe, in some distant place, everything is already, quietly, lost. Or at least there exists a silent place where everything can disappear, melting together in a single, overlapping figure. And as we live our lives we discover - drawing toward us the thin threads attached to each - what has been lost. I closed my eyes and tried to bring to mind as many beautiful lost things as I could. Drawing them closer, holding on to them. Knowing all the while that their lives are fleeting.


i. 회사의 art program이 주관하는 가이드투어에 참가했다. 지금 전시되고 있는 작품들은 난민(출신) 예술가들의 산물들이다. 난민촌에서 태어나 성인이 된 예술가부터, 가족, 친구들 모두 차라리 난민이 되길 택하며 떠난 나라에 홀로 남아 작품활동을 하는 예술가까지. 다양한 방법으로 절망과 희망이 표출되고 있었다.

특히 흥미로웠던 것은 물리적으로 멀리 위치한, 서로 다른 대륙에 사는 예술가 두 명이 수류탄을 모티브로 하여 똑같은 작품을 만들었다는 것이었다. (이야기를 듣고 The Double Life of Veronique이 떠올랐다.) 회사는 이 예술가 두 명을 초청하여 함께 이야기를 나눌 기회를 마련하였다고 한다.

ii. 아무리 희망을 갈구하더라도 내겐 씁쓸함과 쓸쓸함이 더 많은 잔상을 남겼다. 투어가 끝나고 마음이 많이 허전했고, 회사는 여전히 중요한 일들을 하는 중요한 사람들로 인해 무척이나 분주했다. 퇴근을 하고 스푸트니크의 연인을 읽었고, 위로 아닌 위로를 받은 것 같았다.



  • 2018/04/26 13:01 # 답글 비공개

    비공개 덧글입니다.
  • 2018/04/28 23:42 # 비공개

    비공개 답글입니다.
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