I’m looking forward to starting a book club of three. The first book we are going to discuss is one from Julian Barnes. I couldn’t put it down. For such a thin book, it took me nearly a day to read.
One of the lines I really liked:
“History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation.”
How true then is my past, and who am I really?
“We have a knowledge of harmony, anchored deep within. It is this knowledge that enables us, at every instant, to apprehend quality in our lives and, on the rare occasions when everything is in perfect harmony, to appreciate it with the apposite intensity. And I am not referring to the sort of beauty that is the exclusive preserve of Art. Those who feel inspired, as I do, by the greatness of small things will pursue them to the very heart of the inessential where, cloaked in everyday attire, this greatness will emerge from within a certain ordering of ordinary things and from the certainty that all is as it should be, the conviction that it is fine this way.”
― Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog
Like Forrest Gump said, “Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re gonna get.” I got this box full of hand-made chocolates from a famous Amsterdam confectionary last weekend from friends. I don’t think I’ll share them with hubby because they’re bad for his health. Oh the sacrifices I have to make in the name of love.
I take my photos with my mobile phone. When I was standing here last weekend, I had a very slight twinge of “if only”.
If only I had the right camera to document this particular moment in my life. If only I had the skills to capture the light reflecting from the meadow, the glimmer of movement in the underbrush, the dust motes lazily riding the breeze.
But I didn’t have the right camera, and still don’t, nor do I have the skills, so I just snapped this as a reminder of that moment, and took home a feeling of peace from those few seconds when the world stood still so that the tiny gifts of nature could do their dance in silence.
This reminds me of the words Randall Jarrell wrote:
“The days went by for him, all different and all the same. The boy was happy, and yet he didn’t know that he was happy, exactly: he couldn’t remember having been unhappy. If one day as he played at the edge of the forest some talking bird had flown down and asked him: “Do you like your life” he would not have known what to say, but would have asked the bird: “Can you not like it?”
love eye by rania
“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget.”
― Arundhati Roy
You’re all I need by Scott Black
“Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being ‘in love’, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.”
– Louis de Bernières in Captain Corelli’s Mandolin