I read a lot. I listen a lot. I think a lot. But so little remains. The books I read, their plots, their protagonists fade ... Names of people, books, cities. They are already fading away. Even the titles of films I’ve seen recently — they have already faded. Authors of thousands of books I’ve read ... All that remains are the colors of their bindings, their covers. I don’t remember much about Beauty and the Beast, but I remember clearly, vividly the heat of the day as we were crossing the Rhine bridge to see the film. Everything that I see, or read, or listen to, connects, translates into moods, bits of surroundings, colors. No, I am not a novelist. No precision of observation, detail. With me, everything is mood, mood, or else —simply nothingness.
~ Jonas Mekas