What I’ve missed the most during the past year is perusing book shops. I am a collector with book cases overflowing with worn paged books, columns of read and yet to be read stacked in another corner of the den, piles of half read, when become bored, laying beside me bed. Tis me good night tradition, when done, the page is marked and light extinguished. I fall asleep with the writers vision in me head. A sweet way to end the day.
It’s not just the title or inscriptions, but the cover art that also entices me. Like a fine bottle of wine, the label speaks volumes. The artist, be a scribe or a vintner, designs the label to suit the song. And I, an aficionado of art, sings along with the story.
A few found delights are The Bar Harbor Retirement Home for Famous Writers, The Peacock Feast, The Lost Painting, The Chef’s Secret, The Hare with Amber Eyes, The Mermaid and Mrs. Hancock. There are many more that have found new homes with adventurous eyes and minds. I can’t write enough about seeking new authors with interesting tales to tell.
Books with a story, be it fiction or non, can envelope me so tight I find it difficult to breathe until the reading of the next chapter. Steampunk, art, gardening, architecture, history, faerie tales, and even pop-up. If they whisper to me, I will bring them home. Just say my name and I’m yours.