Books

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Bridges & Arcs

Photo from La Crosse Tribune MacGilvray road, outside La Crosse

There is something about bridges. Alone, symbolic, creating a path to another shore. Who knows what will be found there? It’s the mystery and the answer together. Any type of bridge, crossing a river, stream, lake… Any size: huge, small, and “one car at a time” for the single road.

Arcs carry their own beauty. Someone called an arc the most perfect shape in nature. Why? Half a moon—beginning and end together? The alpha and the omega in one view. From the side— especially above water where you can see the reflection—you see the whole. The light and the dark sides. The coming together of everything. Thinking of it, there’s the arc from life to death. There’s the arc of the short story. (Try writing one without an arc.) The arc of a marriage?

And here we have the bridge and the arc together. Mmmmmmmm…what thoughts can we merge?

 

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Something About

Old books, old libraries, old sofas.

bibliocave

Posted by Bibliocave

Old leather sofas. So like a kid who plays with paperdolls and phantasizes, I phantasize about libraries and books. Old sofas too. I save the photos and plan my next trip around. Just in case there’s reincarnation. Although this first photo looks more like a book store than a private library. And there’s no old sofa to lounge in. It does offer the advantage of a bit messy. There’s something nice about books and paintings being tangled about. Just a tad unruly to satisfy the irreverent in us. Sometimes we’re just too busy working at our passion to clean up as we go. It’s not like cooking after all. So here we have two selections to dream our plans around.

PenguinRH

Penguin Random House Post

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Is Enough Too Much?

When is there too much of something? Too many Flowers? Too much Music?

sliceOfLife

Posted on Facebook by Slice of Life

Too much Joy? Too much Love? Too much Peace?

Can there ever be enough of something? I don’t know, I guess so. Maybe of some things. William Blake said we don’t know what enough is until we’ve had too much. But is that really the same thing as too large an amount? Aldous Huxley said we can’t have Heaven without Hell. That we need comparisons, or more accurately we need contrasts. Rather like we would not know a thing intimately or would get used to and therefor tire of something repetitious. I really don’t know.

The thought of this makes some of us want to make a list, a chart, a diagram of things to check against the possibility of there ever being too much of it. But is that too much?

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Gonzo In 2005

huntersnoteWhen I was younger, pretty much any rebel was my hero. And I can’t honestly say that I’ve changed much. Unfortunately rebels don’t tend to live long, or well as they age. You might say their “use-by” date comes early. Or they go off the deep end like Che, and Trotsky, et.al. Thompson just basically blew himself up. Literally I’d say, with a gun. He wrote a suicide note. I don’t blame him for being bummed about the Super Bowl though; it went to the New England Pats. At least it was Philly they were playing, not Green Bay. And there is a definite vacuum once football season is over. The eternal and existential questions arise. What’s it all about? Is there a God? Is there life after death? Does anything matter?

And then there are all of the wonderful quotes. Hunter sure knew how to sling ’em. I like them to the point that I used more than one in The Fat Man, under chapter headings. (Just like old times—I don’t know why writers quit such a lovely gesture.) Here’s one as an example. “I wouldn’t recommend sex, drugs or insanity for everyone, but they’ve always worked for me.”  That’s the lead for Chapter 23—The Hero In Heroin.

So here we are, once again contemplating life, death, and what happens in between. Who better to guide than someone who observed life in all its normal, its glory, and its ugly. And by the way, Hunter, we’re still here waiting for the answers we sent you on ahead to gather. Let us know, huh?

berfrois

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The Library

Isn’t there something magical about photos of books and home libraries? It’s especially wonderful when the books have their very own room. Yes, “A Room of One’s Own”—for books. But then, it’s always books, books, books…Living there within the scent and tenor of the things themselves.

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Room With A View Post