Week Two in Review
I love the pages, and I think they help, so I do them. But I've noticed that I'm in the habit - as a woman of relative leisure - of lying in bed sort of half-awake for awhile, sometimes for perhaps an hour, before I admit I'm up and write my pages. This week I want to try rolling over as soon as I open my eyes once or twice and see if that spices things up at all. The pages are fine, and they often yield interesting personal insights, but I think they could be more interesting if I whip them out while still emerging from some dream. Worth a try.
For my artist date this week I went to the library. I have lived in my town for a year and a half but have not been in, let alone gotten a card. Come to think of it, though I loved the public library in my town growing up I haven't spent a whole lot of quality library time since then. Just a bit here and there. No real exploring... no getting lost in the stacks... no settling in with something interesting and completely unexpected and forgetting the time. But today out of nowhere the words, "the library" popped into my head as I was showering and avoiding thinking about how I didn't have the time to drive out to the special bookstore and how I had no alternative plan for an AD. I love when things pop into my head like that, when the words are clearly and firmly spoken into my inner ear. I always listen, big advice or small. So off I went.
What a deal, a library card. Free free free book and cd borrowing and movie rentals. Why did it take me so long? Well okay - actually, it's a pretty small library, and I was disappointed not to find any little corner with a comfy chair that I could disappear into. Still, I had a great time starting anywhere and just randomly browsing. Many of the books and authors were familiar but not yet read, and it was fun to note the latent potential of their presence on the shelf. A few looked so forlorn, so out of date and and out of place, that I wondered how they ever came to take up residence on the shelf and who ever read them. Those were intriguing, too.
I ended up choosing "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott, the title of which has stuck in my head since a former therapist recommended it perhaps three years ago. (It seems I've seen that title again recently whilst blog-hopping among this group and its branches.) Then I moved to a different area, put my stuff down on the first available surface I saw, turned around, and found myself in the paranormal/spiritual section of nonfiction. ("Coincidence?" says Bill Curtis. I think not.) I picked up Conversations With God, Book 3, because I can't get enough of that stuff (channeled texts are my favorite), and I've been wanting to read it but not wanting to buy any new books. The third and most random book I checked out was a little something called Incest. It's Anais Nin's unexpurgated diary from 1932-1934, during which time she apparently had lots of mad sex with her husband Hugo, her father, and none other than Henry Miller, which I figure counts as synchronicity. The introduction explains somewhat apologetically that Ms. Nin considered the journal her ultimate confidante, and that she "wrote in her diary at white heat, immediately following the events she was describing." I could stand to read something written by a Bohemian frenchwoman in white heat.
After I made my selections I sat in the comfiest place I could find, which was a rocking chair in the big window in front. I'd been trying to hold the Anais Nin in such a way that the title might be obscured by my arm or sweater as I browsed. Now after a moment's perusal I had to shut the book because I was convinced that my agitated (read, "aroused") mental state would be energetically apparent to nearby patrons whether or not they could see what I was reading. Phew! God bless the library. God bless America. Fuck the Patriot Act.
I also checked out a cd by Steve Earle called "The Revolution Starts Now." The title track, which I was already familiar with, rocks. Now I can put it on a mix. (Ooh, that would be a good creative project next week.) And lo, it shall be my theme song. I played it first thing when I got home from my date, and it seems very appropos to my recent energy shift:
The revolution starts now
When you rise above your fear
And tear the walls around you down
The revolution starts here...
Yeah the revolution starts now
In your own backyard
In your own hometown
So what you doin' standin' around?
Just follow your heart
The revolution starts now
Robert Frost or Mary Oliver it ain't, but ahh - just the ticket.
For my artist date this week I went to the library. I have lived in my town for a year and a half but have not been in, let alone gotten a card. Come to think of it, though I loved the public library in my town growing up I haven't spent a whole lot of quality library time since then. Just a bit here and there. No real exploring... no getting lost in the stacks... no settling in with something interesting and completely unexpected and forgetting the time. But today out of nowhere the words, "the library" popped into my head as I was showering and avoiding thinking about how I didn't have the time to drive out to the special bookstore and how I had no alternative plan for an AD. I love when things pop into my head like that, when the words are clearly and firmly spoken into my inner ear. I always listen, big advice or small. So off I went.
What a deal, a library card. Free free free book and cd borrowing and movie rentals. Why did it take me so long? Well okay - actually, it's a pretty small library, and I was disappointed not to find any little corner with a comfy chair that I could disappear into. Still, I had a great time starting anywhere and just randomly browsing. Many of the books and authors were familiar but not yet read, and it was fun to note the latent potential of their presence on the shelf. A few looked so forlorn, so out of date and and out of place, that I wondered how they ever came to take up residence on the shelf and who ever read them. Those were intriguing, too.
I ended up choosing "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott, the title of which has stuck in my head since a former therapist recommended it perhaps three years ago. (It seems I've seen that title again recently whilst blog-hopping among this group and its branches.) Then I moved to a different area, put my stuff down on the first available surface I saw, turned around, and found myself in the paranormal/spiritual section of nonfiction. ("Coincidence?" says Bill Curtis. I think not.) I picked up Conversations With God, Book 3, because I can't get enough of that stuff (channeled texts are my favorite), and I've been wanting to read it but not wanting to buy any new books. The third and most random book I checked out was a little something called Incest. It's Anais Nin's unexpurgated diary from 1932-1934, during which time she apparently had lots of mad sex with her husband Hugo, her father, and none other than Henry Miller, which I figure counts as synchronicity. The introduction explains somewhat apologetically that Ms. Nin considered the journal her ultimate confidante, and that she "wrote in her diary at white heat, immediately following the events she was describing." I could stand to read something written by a Bohemian frenchwoman in white heat.
After I made my selections I sat in the comfiest place I could find, which was a rocking chair in the big window in front. I'd been trying to hold the Anais Nin in such a way that the title might be obscured by my arm or sweater as I browsed. Now after a moment's perusal I had to shut the book because I was convinced that my agitated (read, "aroused") mental state would be energetically apparent to nearby patrons whether or not they could see what I was reading. Phew! God bless the library. God bless America. Fuck the Patriot Act.
I also checked out a cd by Steve Earle called "The Revolution Starts Now." The title track, which I was already familiar with, rocks. Now I can put it on a mix. (Ooh, that would be a good creative project next week.) And lo, it shall be my theme song. I played it first thing when I got home from my date, and it seems very appropos to my recent energy shift:
The revolution starts now
When you rise above your fear
And tear the walls around you down
The revolution starts here...
Yeah the revolution starts now
In your own backyard
In your own hometown
So what you doin' standin' around?
Just follow your heart
The revolution starts now
Robert Frost or Mary Oliver it ain't, but ahh - just the ticket.
posted by eliza | 5:56 PM
5 Comments:
steve earle is great. that's a great song and those are great lyrics for you to discover! thanks for sharing!
titles to add to my list that i take with me to the library. love this image of white heat...
i agree with you about the morning pages - i need to try to do them when i have just woken up...have only done that once so far.
Anais Nin! Now there ya go. Really good stuff. Delta of Venus is a mainstay in my night table drawer!
Anne Lamott is one of my favorite writers. I don't read much (embarrassing confession that hopefully stays under the radar here in comments) but I gobble up anything that she writes. You'll love her at page one; and I don't mean just her writing, I mean her. She's so real.
Great date, mate!
Thank you for reminding me that it's not just books you can get in a library. They have CDs, movies, audiobooks - that's something for my next long drive. I have stacks of books at home, and seldom visit my public library (an academic library just isn't the same), but I'll be back there soon.
Oh... and Bird by Bird is wonderful. I just love it. Hope you do too. In fact, I picked it off my shelf last night to add to my pile of "get back to soon" books.
*picturing a little old lady quietly walking over, and asking in the sweetest little voice "Oh that looks like such a nice book! What is it about?"* hahahahaha
Post a Comment
<< Home