In the midst of my recovery from The Book, I found a little small book by Jose Saramago and fell in love with it as I knelt in the aisle between the shelves not concerned with the other patrons, not feeling the need to take the little book out of the library with me, but feeling the need to finish the lovely tale before my dishy lunch with Andy.
The Tale of the Unknown Island.
It starts with a man petitioning the king for a boat.
Writing that could break through the fog that I'd walked in for two days, the beauty of it was stunning. It's a fairly quick read. A nice stop on the way to whatever else sucks.
Wednesday 25 July 2007
Sunday 22 July 2007
Well, of course I was right
The Book is read from cover to cover. In that order. Was informed last night that there is to be a gathering of folk to discuss on Friday, therefore a gag order is in place until then.
Not surprisingly, I am still recovering, after spending six hours at the Coffee House, barely moving, nose in book, almost totally unaware of anything going on around me - with the minor exception of the young woman who had picked up her copy, read the first page or so and then immediately got on her cell phone to call people and tell them she was reading it (hunh?!), and the man who sat down across the end table from me who was startled every time I giggled out loud. I do that. It happies me that I do it, but I can understand how it would be startling.
Anne has it right now, and I'm doing my best not to bombard her with questions. Failing miserably, of course. So, where are you in the book? Are you liking it? Etc.
I will not go on to drop hints or give spoilers or anything. I am not that person.
I am satisfied. And I was right. It is done.
Not surprisingly, I am still recovering, after spending six hours at the Coffee House, barely moving, nose in book, almost totally unaware of anything going on around me - with the minor exception of the young woman who had picked up her copy, read the first page or so and then immediately got on her cell phone to call people and tell them she was reading it (hunh?!), and the man who sat down across the end table from me who was startled every time I giggled out loud. I do that. It happies me that I do it, but I can understand how it would be startling.
Anne has it right now, and I'm doing my best not to bombard her with questions. Failing miserably, of course. So, where are you in the book? Are you liking it? Etc.
I will not go on to drop hints or give spoilers or anything. I am not that person.
I am satisfied. And I was right. It is done.
Saturday 7 July 2007
The Grand Cleaning Out
The decision, in it's current permutation, is to travel for 6 months around the Mediterranean and then see what happens after.
That doesn't change the trend in the house towards Anne and Sarah getting rid of shit. I have taken 6 boxes of books to A Novel Idea. 5 shelves worth of books. 5 of them. Started going through the closet today. Probably already have 2 boxes worth on my bed. Still many many to go through. I do have a pile started for Sierra, although I have to remember to add Johnny Tremain to the stack.
Threw out 3/4 of a box worth of papers, with the box. That was fucking exciting.
Made some executive decisions:
Martha Grimes goes. MamaPapa have them all, there is no need to duplicate.
Eco stays. Because I fucking love him. I have all of the fiction and it will take a certain amount of focused energy to collect all of the non-fiction. Unless I am patient and wait for some other fanboy to publish the anthology in 3 volumes including never before collected articles on the cultural phenomenon of Underoos and bad cop shows. I would be this fanboy. Yes. Yes I would.
The Boondocks collection stays. Someday it will be joined by others: Achewood, Pibgorn, MacHall, Sandman and anything else I love that I can find in bulk.
Oh, I remember. I bought a book today. yeah, I know, bite me. It's an Everyman Library Collection book of creepy ghosty poetry. I am totally sold on the Everyman Library Collection books. I have one of TS Eliot's poetry including The Waste Land (dear goddess I love that poem). I am thinking of taking about 4 or 5 of them with me on my travels. They are smallish, well-made and just the thing for a me.
It is fucking hot out.
Love to all.
That doesn't change the trend in the house towards Anne and Sarah getting rid of shit. I have taken 6 boxes of books to A Novel Idea. 5 shelves worth of books. 5 of them. Started going through the closet today. Probably already have 2 boxes worth on my bed. Still many many to go through. I do have a pile started for Sierra, although I have to remember to add Johnny Tremain to the stack.
Threw out 3/4 of a box worth of papers, with the box. That was fucking exciting.
Made some executive decisions:
Martha Grimes goes. MamaPapa have them all, there is no need to duplicate.
Eco stays. Because I fucking love him. I have all of the fiction and it will take a certain amount of focused energy to collect all of the non-fiction. Unless I am patient and wait for some other fanboy to publish the anthology in 3 volumes including never before collected articles on the cultural phenomenon of Underoos and bad cop shows. I would be this fanboy. Yes. Yes I would.
The Boondocks collection stays. Someday it will be joined by others: Achewood, Pibgorn, MacHall, Sandman and anything else I love that I can find in bulk.
Oh, I remember. I bought a book today. yeah, I know, bite me. It's an Everyman Library Collection book of creepy ghosty poetry. I am totally sold on the Everyman Library Collection books. I have one of TS Eliot's poetry including The Waste Land (dear goddess I love that poem). I am thinking of taking about 4 or 5 of them with me on my travels. They are smallish, well-made and just the thing for a me.
It is fucking hot out.
Love to all.
Friday 6 July 2007
I am S E Johnson, a Family Company
Really not here today. Spent most of the morning at home trying to convince myself to get going as I have two whole days off in a row once I'm done at work today and there is no reason to get all lazy now.
Riiiiight.
Memory is such an odd thing. Especially if you consider that most events are read differently by the people involved in them even as they are taking place. Went through another box of papers and crap yesterday and while I understand why I kept the things that I did, it feels good to be getting rid of so much of it. Just talking to one of my co-workers about my upcoming travels (not leaving until the beginning of March at least) and how the memories that I record in one place in one way may require a different method in another place. Kind of a fun thought, that. I have no patience with cameras and video even less so, which is going to demand a certain degree of creativity on my part, I suspect. Maybe a Polaroid I can handle. My strength is in words, not necessarily making images with images and color. I can draw, and that might be a handy skill to pick back up before leaving. Hell, it would be handy to have now, just because life is good and there are plenty of ways to record it now.
Knowing that we are all leaving is making it important and easy to be here in the house now and enjoy it while we are still here. Strange to think that while the relationships are not finite, the situation definitely is.
I hope someday to live again with people and feel as good about it as I do right now. This is new for me. I like it.
Realized this morning that I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen in the next five years. I love it! No plan, no routine, no obligation to anything but being the best version of me that I can cuz that works out pretty damn well. Good people around, good food to be eaten, good books, good family, good home. Plus, I really like being me - it's a fun place to be, my brain.
Thinking of Chandreyee in CA having traded tarantulas for painted walls and wine glasses without even realizing that she'd done it. I see why she misses them.
Now I'm all thoughtful and in need of something to fill my gut. Will get back to work.
Love to all,
S
Riiiiight.
Memory is such an odd thing. Especially if you consider that most events are read differently by the people involved in them even as they are taking place. Went through another box of papers and crap yesterday and while I understand why I kept the things that I did, it feels good to be getting rid of so much of it. Just talking to one of my co-workers about my upcoming travels (not leaving until the beginning of March at least) and how the memories that I record in one place in one way may require a different method in another place. Kind of a fun thought, that. I have no patience with cameras and video even less so, which is going to demand a certain degree of creativity on my part, I suspect. Maybe a Polaroid I can handle. My strength is in words, not necessarily making images with images and color. I can draw, and that might be a handy skill to pick back up before leaving. Hell, it would be handy to have now, just because life is good and there are plenty of ways to record it now.
Knowing that we are all leaving is making it important and easy to be here in the house now and enjoy it while we are still here. Strange to think that while the relationships are not finite, the situation definitely is.
I hope someday to live again with people and feel as good about it as I do right now. This is new for me. I like it.
Realized this morning that I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen in the next five years. I love it! No plan, no routine, no obligation to anything but being the best version of me that I can cuz that works out pretty damn well. Good people around, good food to be eaten, good books, good family, good home. Plus, I really like being me - it's a fun place to be, my brain.
Thinking of Chandreyee in CA having traded tarantulas for painted walls and wine glasses without even realizing that she'd done it. I see why she misses them.
Now I'm all thoughtful and in need of something to fill my gut. Will get back to work.
Love to all,
S
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