Through a patchwork of images of the past and the present we assemble the picture of grief and confusion and discovery and connection.
The book is very brief but reads slowly. So much whitespace give the words a mythical aura of poetry, of private journals, of intimacy.
As you let yourself get drawn into the images and the thoughts and memories evoked, it feels like a prayer.
I loved the heartfelt portrayal of Warsaw.
I read it listening to Arvo Pärt, specially Spiegel im spiegel.