ジョシュ・ブローリンのインスタグラム(joshbrolin) - 8月1日 00時53分

Sam Shepard has died. I am thrown into an overwhelming reverie, onto a zoetrope of my entire adulthood of a head buried in his words, traveling my old mustang through deserts hot with Waylon Jennings or Bach on the radio, of my Mom and our bucolic motel jaunts and late night jukebox bars. Sam, in Austin, TX, was the one who told me about a book called "No Country for Old Men" and that they were making a movie that he hoped "they didn't fuck up". I read the book that day. And the only time I've been on Broadway was in Sam Shepard's "True West". All Sam. --- Sam turned beiges into symphonies, cowboys into civil presidents, and the local feed and grain into the Taj Mahal. His writings made me feel less of a freak growing up in bucolic California, and reminded me that ranch life was quintessentially and wildly American and that I was American and that I could question those trying to arrest art and I could find art in an oak tree. Sam Shepard made freeways like the 210 cool. His "Motel Chronicles" and "Hawk Moon" I've read through no less than hundreds of times. His words were my scripture, my sibling, my candle. Rest In Peace, Frendo. To your words, always: "I feel like I've never had a home, you know? I feel related to the country, to this country, and yet I don't know exactly where I fit in... There's always this kind of nostalgia for a place, a place where you can reckon with yourself" -- Sam Shepard

[BIHAKUEN]UVシールド(UVShield)

>> 飲む日焼け止め！「UVシールド」を購入する