I've been recording my thoughts in bits and scraps, collecting a reel of moments as best I can.
My reading diet since August has mostly consisted of accounting and business. The end of classes are in sight, and I must say, it can't come soon enough. I've hardly read a work of fiction, except for blogs, since July. But, alas, yesterday marked the day I finished a novel that I started in September. It has taken me that long because I didn't want to deviate from school work. I've also dipped into a few other books, but not as many or as long as I'd like.
The novel I finished is called The Ice Chorus by Sarah Stonich. I found this one while I was searching the library shelves one day back in September. Something about the dabs of orange and red watercolor squares on the book's spine caught my attention. After reading the inside flap, I had a good idea what the story would be about. In short: a happy marriage that leads to an affair and a woman finding herself. But there's so much more, so many details and stories. I was drawn to the story in part because it involved an artist and alternates between Mexico and Ireland. We are guided along on this woman's journey, learning how her story begins and the internal struggles she goes through along the way. I grew to care about the characters, especially in Ireland. It's a story I will remember and will revisit in my mind, and the writing was gorgeous.
I also picked two non-fiction books from the library's shelves: 59 Seconds: Think a Little, Change a Lot by Richard Wiseman; and Love 2.0: How Our Supreme Emotion Affects Everything We Feel, Think, Do, and Become by Barbara L. Fredrickson, Ph.D. What little I've read so far of 59 Seconds has been inspirational. This seems like a gem of a book, packed with information, that can be read in small spurts. I've only read a few pages of Love 2.0. I'm thoroughly intrigued. There are quotes that head each chapter and this one is speaking to me tonight from the chapter titled "Loving Kindness":
"Love Doesn't just sit there, like a stone;
it has to be made, like bread;
remade all the time, made new."
–Ursula K. Le Guin
I've sufficiently deviated tonight, catching up on blogs and such. I'm tired, yet I keep staring at the page, knowing there is more, yet unable to spit it out at this time– I stare at the white space, feeling the heaviness in my eyes, and the heaviness from looking at a computer screen for too long, neck stooped over. The blank page has a way of casting a spell; and now, I must break that spell–