Name: Mia

Reading: Sodom and Gomorrah, Marcel Proust

Why did you want to read this? In Search of Lost Time is my life manual for its anthropological overindulgence, opulent but precise use of language, and outbursts of clarity concerning the artistic impulse, disappointment, experience, and time. It is so thorough and extensive in its rhythm that I remember certain scenes as if they happened to me. In particular this chapter is dear to me for how botanical lifecycles become a metaphor for sexual attraction and its consummation. The symbolism of pollination is woven throughout and the language is so rich that you can touch it. I mean, the words are like morsels of food, even when they don't quite make sense coming from my mouth.

How did you record yourself? I recorded myself on a lazy Saturday afternoon in my studio in Mexico City, which could otherwise be described as a cuarto de servicio on the roof of my apartment building, chosen for the added benefit of the sonic complexities of intermittent sirens and vacuums being used in the apartments below, a place where I can be alone. ​