Archives for posts with tag: book

I’ve always noticed and appreciated sculptures that greet visitors of public libraries.

But lately whenever I visit a different library, I am in awe; and even when I visit the same library over and over again, I stop to admire the sculptures and how they capture the beauty of reading and the library itself–a special home open to all to share and receive that which lies within the library walls.

Recently, I visited a library that was new (to me). I’m on a mission to obtain as many library cards as I can whenever we go to a nearby city and it makes sense. Although, it may not be convenient to physically check the books out from certain more distant locations, I gain a new library card, and online access to e-books and audio books. I enjoy visiting each of the library webpages to learn about new books and librarian recommendations.

These are just a couple of the sculptures from two different libraries. It’s always fun to see the vast differences in how an artist captures the magic of reading and the libraries.

A book that comes to mind is Know the Past, Find the Future: The New York Public Library at 100. It was one of my first free downloads, when it was available for free, when I purchased my first Kindle reader. I still need to come back to it and finish reading the reflections by various people on their favorite books from the collection.

Here I sit at the local coffee shop,
a circular construction, tables all around,
waterfalls in the background, trees reach
wide around the space, making me feel as
though I’m in a treehouse, and for these moments,
I feel free, at ease, childlike–
in my element.


Not too long after I applied for the library position, I had a reply from the Human Resources department stating that I did not meet the minimum qualifications, but that I had the opportunity to submit additional information to show that I had what was required.

Surprisingly, the news came as a slight disappointment, not an altogether shock, and ironically, a bit of a relief. In my head, I had listed the pros and cons and reality–and well, I have cast that stone and am ready to move on and will be ready for any interesting adventures that I cross roads with.

End of chapter.

A few months back when hubby and I were on the lookout for garage sales, we saw a sign for a backyard open studio art sale. This photo is of a piece that greeted us in the front yard. It made me smile immediately. I like the way the colors of the surrounding flowers compliment it perfectly.

I’ve been gravitating toward fiction for younger readers these days and biographies or memoir in audio format and any other fiction or non-fiction that grabs me. I have more time to listen while driving, and lately I’ve been too tired to keep my eyes open for long.

I don’t remember how I came across Nevermoor: The Trials of Morrigan Crow by Jessica Townsend. I listened to the audio version narrated by Gemma Whelan. I do remember reading that fans of the Harry Potter series may enjoy it. I must say I was immediately pulled into the story of Morrigan Crow, one of the ‘cursed children’ who who escapes her fate and finds herself whisked away into a world where anything is possible. The story was captivating, the writing lovely; just what I was needed to feed my imagination. I’m looking forward to book 2.

I think that’s it for now. The weather has cooled down dramatically. I’m sitting outside right now and almost ready to put a sweater on whereas the past few weeks the temperature has been in the high 90s. It feel good, cleansing in a way. I only pray that those effected and all the fire fighters are safe as they battle the many fires that have broken out across the country.

I sit here, feeling at peace,
the stress of the day unravels into the breeze,
Lucas stares off into the dusk,
watching the trees blow as he usually does,
inspecting the yard, barking when it suits him.
He’s satisfied, looks one last time, and goes back inside;
I follow his lead.
The day is done.

It’s going to be a busy day at work today and I planned on going in early for my own sake and I have class tonight, which I’m not sure I will make. It depends on how the day unfolds. I’ll have to take it a moment at a time. I did decide that I needed to write and that I would go in a bit later, so that I can do this one thing for myself first.

A book has been brought back into my consciousness after a fellow blogger mentioned it as a book that changed his life. That book is Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment. I do recall having this book. It’s one of many that got away with my last move. It’s a book that was part of several in a class I took long ago; then again in another class, the teacher couldn’t praise it enough.

Since the book had been brought back into my awareness, while browsing the shelves of the second hand store recently, there was a copy there peering back at me as thought it had been waiting for me; I invited the book back to its home in my own shelves. I have been reading it for a few moments each morning before I get out of bed to start the day. I have nodded my head in agreement and feel that I’m visiting a familiar place, an old friend.

I believe that certain things, whether experiences, moments, books–the possibilities are plentiful–as long as we are paying attention, what we need will surface. The Power of Now has reminded me of the strong influence the Vietnamese Buddhist Monk Thich Nhat Hanh has had on my life, and takes me back to when I first saw him speak and then purchased one of his books nearly 20 years ago. I don’t look to him as a guru by any means, and I don’t think he’d want that. Instead, I look to what makes common sense to me: the practice of mindfulness, compassion, love, understanding, nature, and being in the present moment.

Through these many years, I feel that finding and being in the present moment is there for me to enter when I choose, when I choose to let go and surrender to it–not think, but do. Since rediscovering The Power of Now, I feel that certain spokes of the wheel are reconnecting and opening further.

I’ve been thinking about my past angers and I feel that, without being able to say why, The Power of Now, opened up something in me that allowed me to frame what I’ve been thinking about for so long and put it to the page. I started to write about it a few days ago, an image of my childhood that I’ve often thought about, but never felt comfortable putting to the page, even to my personal pages; I finally did, and I went on for four pages and it took a different direction and became entwined with work. I was overwhelmed with how much there was to edit if I want to post it to my blog. I view it as part of my memoirs, for that is the type of writing that I am most drawn to, that, the essay form, and journal writing.

In the past several days, I’ve been finding my mantra to be the single word, “now” to bring me into the present, especially at work or if I find I’d like to slow my thoughts down.

A Dream – From my journal (Sunday, April 8)

Last night when I became aware of the music that almost always comes through the apartment walls, I said in my mind, “now, now…” I dreamed last night I was in a situation where my death was before me. I don’t remember how I got into the situation, but I was standing there with someone aiming a crossbow at my throat. I think I heard someone shriek or make a sound of fear. I said, “it’s ok.” And I remember I kept saying, “now, now” to myself. “This is now.” I accepted the situation and became my own witness. I concentrated on the present moment and a calm overtook my being. I think I remember the click of the arrow releasing. The dream ended.


Last night was a restless night. Not in a bad way. I waited too long to brush my teeth and it bothers me when I skip a night of flossing and brushing. My significant other got up to use the restroom at close to 3:30 a.m. and I took the opportunity to drag myself from a laziness; not quite sleep, rather some sort of heaviness where my mind and body were both awake, but neither was budging. I know it drives him crazy when I wait so long. It disrupts his sleep. I’ll try to do better.

After that, I was wide awake and that thing that happens, happened. You know, where you find yourself phantom writing, where thoughts pour out of your mind, full ideas and thoughts that you’ve held inside and turned around and around—they finally begin pouring out coherently and you can see the words, the sentences, the feelings streaming by, but you just watch. You don’t want to move. You don’t want to disrupt the flow.

And so, there I was. I didn’t want to get up again because I could sense that my significant other was not sound asleep yet. It wouldn’t take long. I continued to let my thoughts spill out and I imagined that I was an hour glass and these thoughts were sand steadily pouring out and I wasn’t doing anything about it. And then I felt the night breeze caress my cheek. It soothed me so. There is nothing I enjoy more than the feel of the breeze on my skin at night through the open window. I have a pack of index cards on the window sill. I grabbed one carefully not to make too much movement, then I reached for my mechanical pencil. I tried to write two words and it seemed that the scratch of the pencil in the quiet room echoed loud. It wasn’t going to work. I put both back up and sat there, going back and forth in my mind: Am I going to get up or lose all the thoughts that are shooting out like stars in the sky? What will I do? Do I want to begin my day?

By now it was a little after 4:00 a.m.—ah makes me think of a book I checked out from the library. I’ve poked around in it, haven’t done the exercises. But still felt inspired in some way. I’ll have to come back to this book, since it makes more sense now that 4:00 a.m. is on my mind. The book is called The 4 a.m.. Breakthrough: Unconventional Writing Exercises that Transform your Fiction by Brian Kiteley. He’s also written The 3 a.m. Breakthrough. I haven’t set my eyes on that one yet. As I was saying: I didn’t want to get up that early and start my day because I knew I would be exhausted later and that I needed to sleep.

Finally, I heard the breath from my significant other that signifies that if I get up, he won’t notice, so I slide out of bed, or rather I maneuver out of bed. I’m boxed in on the window side and I have to navigate just enough space to put my foot down at the end of the bed, so as not to lose my balance. I go to the living room, get the battery operated lantern from the bottom shelf, turn it on, get my notebook and pencil, crouch over, and begin writing.

By then, the thoughts are not exactly flowing out the way they were at the brink of awakening. No, of course not. I did manage to jot a few thoughts down so that I can come back to them later. Instead what I wrote was mostly a few words to spark my memory next time, words put in their own corners in the notebook for each separate idea or thought. I’m still glad I got out of bed. I’m glad I was awake at that hour. The clouds seem to wait until the wee hours of the morning to look there most stunning and romantic. I could slip out of my window and fly with them easily. And that was my restless night.

About the photo: I’m not exactly sure why I chose this one to share. I took it a month back on a visit to the library. I liked how one piece of art framed the other artwork. It was taken with my iPod Touch, so the quality isn’t that great. There’s something about it I like and I love that the mountain is in the background.

It’s nighttime again…have a good night.

Happy writing!