I have over 600 photographs waiting for processing, but didn't have time or stamina to go through them today. These photographs are from Friday, it was a snowy day.
I borrowed from library the first part of the autobiographical books My Struggle (Min kamp) by Karl Ove Knausgård, in an Swedish translation, and read some pages from the beginning.
The six books are well over 3500 pages in all, and it is daunting to think about reading even the first book, such a dense thing it is. But maybe I can do it... In any case, this set of books seems to be remarkable, combining essay-type writing with memoir that touches even the smallest details of living.
(Posting title is from the poem On Anti-Biography by Will Alexander.)
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