That is where I like to be - at the precipice, when two things meet and a third is begun. Isn't that the appeal of Shel Silverstein’s Where the Sidewalk Ends?
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
What happens when, because of a book, you get inspired or experience a resonance of truth or look up and the room looks different because you are different than you were before you started. What is that experience is like? Tell me how it happened to you?
"There are a lot of us . . . who think the literary life is the loveliest one possible, this life of reading and writing and corresponding. We think this life is nearly ideal. It is spiritually invigorating... It is intellectually quickening... One will have over the years many experiences that stimulate and nourish the spirit. these will be quiet and deep inside, however, unaccompanied by thunder or tremulous angels." Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott
O cry you mercy sir. Nobel philosopher, your company.
What happens when, because of a book, you get inspired or experience a resonance of truth or look up and the room looks different because you are different than you were before you started. What is that experience is like? Tell me how it happened to you?
ReplyDeleteOh, that is the addictive power of books, the reason I return to shelves, let my fingers alight upon a new spine and wait for the magic to unfold around me. I love the transformative nature of narrative. I never understood the need for narcotics, when there were unending supplies of books to be read.