|Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter|
When I was a kid, the library immediately felt like home to me. I can still remember the window seat overlooking the woods at one library I frequented often. Another library (in town) acted as my babysitter in between school and ballet class.
I remember being able to check out the full limit of books in between visits and feeling like this was the ultimate luxury. And then to top off this experience by having a quiet, uninterrupted place to go with all of my books? This was my heaven. I remember feeling completely content.
Well, somewhere along the line, in my adult life, I didn't allow myself this luxury. I didn't believe I had the time. Sure, I read more than my fair share of books on education. There was always a rotating stack of the latest titles on my bed stand. And I think I read every book on self help that came out in the 90s. Remember THAT era? I do not regret the time I spent immersed in reading about small business models. But, see a pattern here? My reading was always non-fiction. Always. For some reason, I could justify my reading this way.
It wasn't until last year (embarrassing for me to admit), that I gave myself permission to exclusively read novels. And I am finally feeling all those feels I had as a kid again. Why would I ever trade these experiences in with "adulthood? Why would I ever do something like this to myself?
I've had a lot of mysterious behaviors that I've had to reroute in my adult life. And I am not trading this one in again. This one's here to stay.
Being a visual artist, I have such a deep honor and respect for an author who can develop a character I will never see yet feel so strongly connected to. How, on earth, do they do this? I will never understand but I, now, will thoroughly enjoy.
Thank you. MORE please!
|Natkote, Tamirat, The Parking Lot Attendant|
View more painted portraits (of female authors) HERE
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