I will always love books. The very thing-ness of them. The design, the way they age, their heft.
I miss those college days when I had time to sit on the floor of the used book store, combing through art books or scanning for paperbacks. I consistently had an appetite for books – pictures, places, words, possibilities – that exceeded the hours in a day.
I dream that someday I’ll have time for books again. Time to open the cover and disappear into the world of the story. Time to read the most beautiful words twice.
P.S. How do you like the new blog design? I wish the pics were bigger, but otherwise I dig it.
It is heartening to think of the days growing longer and the warmth of the sun gaining momentum each day. Here, in Minneapolis, where I live, however, this first day of Spring is the coldest of my 40-something lifetime. So, on a day when winter is really feeling like enough is ENOUGH, I turn to Thoreau.
I had a friend years ago who used to say that you couldn’t hate someone for the same reasons that you love them. Nature is like that. It is part and parcel. Beauty and terror, serenity, and brutality. Winter wind and summer sun. And, no, we can’t ever have enough. Even when it seems that we have way too much.