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Olivia Laing

The Lonely City

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  • mursyaцитує5 років тому
    You can be lonely anywhere, but there is a particular flavour to the loneliness that comes from living in a city, surrounded by millions of people.
  • ulfadwioцитуєторік
    Loneliness is difficult to confess; difficult too to categorise. Like depression, a state with which it often intersects, it can run deep in the fabric of a person
  • ulfadwioцитує8 днів тому
    I knew what I looked like. I looked like a woman in a Hopper painting. The girl in Automat, maybe, in a cloche hat and green coat, gazing into a cup of coffee, the window behind her reflecting two rows of lights, swimming into blackness. Or the one in Morning Sun, who sits on her bed, hair twisted into a messy bun, gazing through her window at the city beyond.
  • salnajlaaцитує25 днів тому
    I’ve come to believe that he was right, that loneliness is by no means a wholly worthless experience, but rather one that cuts right to the heart of what we value and what we need.
  • salnajlaaцитує25 днів тому
    I wanted to understand what it means to be lonely, and how it has functioned in people’s lives, to attempt to chart the complex relationship between loneliness and art.
  • salnajlaaцитує25 днів тому
    Interesting, the idea that loneliness might be taking you towards an otherwise unreachable experience of reality.
  • salnajlaaцитує25 днів тому
    Like depression, a state with which it often intersects, it can run deep in the fabric of a person, as much a part of one’s being as laughing easily or having red hair.
  • salnajlaaцитує25 днів тому
    IMAGINE STANDING BY A WINDOW at night, on the sixth or seventeenth or forty-third floor of a building.
  • ulfadwioцитує9 місяців тому
    was working, but I didn’t have anything like enough to do, and the bad times came in the evenings, when I went back to my room, sat on the couch and watched the world outside me going on through glass, a light bulb at a time.
  • ulfadwioцитуєторік
    Loneliness is a very special place. It isn’t always easy to see the truth of Wilson’s statement, but over the course of my travels I’ve come to believe that he was right, that loneliness is by no means a wholly worthless experience, but rather one that cuts right to the heart of what we value and what we need. Many marvellous things have emerged from the lonely city: things forged in loneliness, but also things that function to redeem it.
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