life's unmerry-go-round

Do you know how many histrionic posts I have saved in my blogger drafts?
A lot.
Generally, I sleep on them before posting so they never see the light of day.
I should have done that last night.
I could delete that post and pretend I never felt that way. But, on the other hand... maybe I shouldn't always be swallowing these roiling emotions and should be letting them out sometimes. I know I can err on the side of being overly buttoned-up.



I stayed up late last night submerging myself in this beautifully written book:


It eased my heart's pain a little.

I do feel better, but nothing has changed. My issues and fears (which have nothing to do with anyone but myself) are still there and I know it's just a matter of time before they bring me down again. I'm still lost, but now I'm lying on the floor of the maze and looking up at the sky. Its gentle billowing is keeping me stable for the present.

On another note, I've never updated my blog this many times in one week. Next thing you know, I'll be one of those people who updates their Facebook status every 10 minutes!

Not really. :P

Ravings of a Bibliophile

You know what makes me sad?
When people (kids and teens in particular) tell me they don't like to read.
It makes me want to hide in the back of a dark, dark closet and mutter curses against our current society. Of course, I'd take a flashlight in the closet with me so I could read in between tears and anguished cries.

I mean, how sad would it be to not like to read?
How tragic is it that some consider reading to be something one is forced to do for school? (I am related to some of these people too! *shudders*)

Books mean the world to me. I cannot remember a time when reading was not something I enjoyed. This past year I have started taking trips twice a week to the library. Like one diseased, I search online for interesting and new-to-me books to read. (Which reminds me, got a recommendation? Leave it in the comments!)
This winter, especially, books have been invaluable. Books were my drug. When life got too stressful, too sad, too lonely, I lost myself in an inky world. According to goodreads.com I have read 175 books so far in 2011 (only a handful of which are re-reads since I don't usually log my re-reads.) Yes, I read a disgusting amount these days. It wasn't always like this, believe me. But I figure I probably won't have this kind of time later on in life so I am taking advantage of it now.

If you are reading this and don't like to read, I'm sorry. Sorry for for my vehement opinions or sorry for your incomplete existence, you may wonder. Well, I'm... not going to answer that. :P


Some of my favourite book quotes I have collected in my readings:

"I closed my eyes, put my right hand on top of the book, and passed it lightly across the cover. It was cool and smooth like a stone from the bottom of the brook, and it stilled me. A whole other world is inside there, I thought to myself, and that's where I want to be."
-From Ida B. by Katherine Hannigan


"Literature is a source of pleasure, he said, it is one of the rare inexhaustible joys in life, but it's not only that. It must not be disassociated from reality. Everything is there. That is why I never use the word fiction. Every subtlety in life is material for a book. He insisted on the fact. Have you noticed, he'd say, that I'm talking about novels? Novels don't contain only exceptional situations, life or death choices, or major ordeals; there are also everyday difficulties, temptations, ordinary disappointments; and, in response, every human attitude, every type of behavior, from the finest to the most wretched. There are books where, as you read, you wonder: What would I have done? It's a question you have to ask yourself. Listen carefully: it is a way to learn to live. There are grown-ups who would say no, that literature is not life, that novels teach you nothing. They are wrong. Literature performs, instructs, it prepares you for life."
-from A Novel Bookstore by Laurence Cossé


"As I stood outside in Cow Lane, it occurred to me that Heaven must be a place where the library is open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

No ... eight days a week."
-From The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley


"When you sell a man a book you don't sell just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night - there's all heaven and earth in a book, a real book."
-From The Haunted Bookshop by Christopher Morley


"I feel, holding books, accommodating their weight and breathing their dust, an abiding love. I trust them, in a way that I can't trust my computer, though I couldn't do without it. Books are matter. My books matter. What would I have done through these years without the library and all its lovely books?"
-From The Girls by Lori Lansens

(A few of my very favourite books.)

{1st picture from the film "Les Parapluies de Cherbourg" and 2nd picture taken by me.}

Because the world needs more happy thoughts.

Here are a couple random things that have made my week happy:

I have been a part of a local, non-profit theatrical organization the past 8 years or so and this Spring they are putting on a production of Alice in Wonderland which I am going to be in!!
As in most versions, this play is a combination of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. I'm very excited to be in this play because those are two of my most favourite books ever!!! (The adaptation doesn't always follow the books as much as I would like, but c'est la vie.)

Auditions were on Saturday and I got the role of the White Rabbit! I am rather pleased about that.
I went into auditions not wanting any specific character but during auditions I decided that was the part I wanted most. I try not to get too attached to roles, though, in case I don't get them. :P (I don't view myself as an actress, really. Drama is a pleasant past time but I have no desire to pursue it later in life. I am a much better actress then I used to be, though. And I do get such an exhilaration from being on stage. I really don't understand how reticent moi could enjoy it so much, but I do.)

On Monday, my sister took us (my brothers, mom, & I) to her favourite used bookstore. We started in the children's section which was located downstairs but then moved upstairs to the "adult" books.
As I stood in the corner where the "A's" started and surveyed the shelves brimming with books just waiting for me, I couldn't decided whether it was heaven or hell! I suspect the latter since I grew very warm with all the bending over and developed a headache. Though the headache might have had something to do with the cat wandering about. (I am horribly allergic but I love cats so I pet them anyway.) I think all used bookshops should have cats. It was so wonderful to have that lissome black and white creature rubbing against my ankles obligingly as I perused the numerous titles.
Slowly and surely, I made my way through the adult fiction section. My purchases of the day were The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield and The Waves by Virginia Woolf. (Two books I read last year and loved.) I could have bought so much more since there were many books there to tempt me... But I don't have steady income so I try to keep my expenditures low. The two books I got were only about 10 dollars total. (I don't even want to tell you how many books my sister bought...! O_o)
I do hope to go back someday. I didn't even get to the poetry section!

Then, the next day (yesterday) I was at the Library looking at the books they have for sale in the foyer (books that people have donated and such). And usually, I can't find much that I want but I got lucky and found Inkheart by Cornelia Funke and Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (which I haven't read yet but have been wanting to read). Got them both for $1.50! Oh yes.

Altogether it was a very good week for a bibliophile like me. But I have noticed the available spaces on my bookshelves are filling in rather rapidly......
What about you all? What has made you happy this week? :)



{Drawing of the White Rabbit is by Tenniel and other two pictures are mine.}

My Favourite Place

"This," she told her little brother, "is a treasure map!"
Her little brother eyed the tattered piece of paper doubtfully and complacently continued playing with his toy cars.
Unruffled by his disinterest, she continued. "At the end of this map you will find a door... a door that leads to all of my favourite places!
How would you like to go through a wardrobe to a beautiful land where animals talk! We could take Fritz with us and he could tell us what he is thinking!"
By now, her brother had abandoned his toys and was regarding the paper she held with curiosity.
"We could step through a looking glass, even! And be pieces on a giant game of chess! Or we could go to Dictionopolis and eat the very words we say. If we get too full we could go to Digitopolis and eat subtraction stew which makes you hungry instead of full!"
Her little brother's face broke into a smile that was parenthesised by two dimples.
"Oh! Wait," she gasped, "I know where we could go first! A place called Neverland! You get there by flying and you can never get older there, never ever. They have pirates there and indians and fairies and everything! Oh, yes! Let's go there first!" She almost shrieked, hopping up and down with exuberance. "Do you want to?" She asked earnestly peering into the little boy's widened eyes. He nodded vigorously.
"Well, then, off we go!!" She slipped her hand in his and swinging their arms they set off together down that well-worn path... the path that leads to the library.

{Painting: The Land of Enchantment by Norman Rockwell.}

'I am Christina Rossetti.'

I am back from vacation! I had a lovely time, reading, writing, canoeing, wading, walking, admiring nature, and braving no air-conditioning. ;)

Anyhow, as you should know from my last post, I brought some books of poetry along with me. One of these was The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti {Only Volume I, as I found out later!} I had never read much, if any, Christina Rossetti but now I would consider her as being one of my favourite poets.
My interest in Christina Rossetti was aroused after a recent re-reading of one of my favourite books: The Tattooed Potato and other clues by Ellen Raskin. This humorous book is about a girl named Dickory Dock who becomes the apprentice to a mysterious, eccentric painter named Garson.
In this excerpt, Dickory is upset because of her ridiculous name and Garson tells her an interesting story about Christina Rossetti.

"You know, Chief Quinn was right about {your name} being a happy name. Besides, a name is just a label; it can stand for whatever a person makes of it." He left off painting to look at his sulking apprentice. "Have you ever heard of Christina Rossetti?"
"No, and that's not a funny name or a happy name." Dickory was screwing and unscrewing the same cap on the same tube of paint.
"I'm talking about names being symbols for who and what you are," Garson said, returning to his canvas. "Christina Rossetti was a poet, a wonderful poet. She was also a bit loony, but that's not the point."
Dickory set down the paint tube and listened.
"Christina Rossetti was a shy, very shy creature, who had difficulty speaking to anyone but her family and a few intimate friends. Well, one evening, somehow or other, she found herself at a party. No one noticed her: small, retiring, dressed in black, she sat like a shadow against the wall while the fashionable people flirted, and flaunted their ignorance, and chattered their silly chatter. Then the subject turned to poetry. You can imagine what was said: 'No one had time to read poetry anymore,' or 'All the good poets are dead,' or 'I don't know much about poetry, but I know what I like." Whatever was said was shallow and stupid, so shallow and stupid that our timid poet stood up and walked to the center of the room. Suddenly all was quiet. All eyes were on this small nervous woman in dull black. Can you guess what she said, Dickory?"
"What?"

"Head held high, she stood tall as she could in the middle of those frightening people and said:
'I am Christina Rossetti.' Then she turned and sat down.
"That's all?"
"That's everything. 'I am Christina Rossetti,' she said, which meant: 'I am a poet, a very good poet.' Those in the room who recognized her name realized they had been speaking rubbish; and those who did not understand were silenced by their ignorance. 'I am Christina Rossetti' was all she need have said. Do you understand what I'm saying, Dickory Dock? Worry less about your name, and more about who you are and who you want to be, and what Dickory Dock will stand for."

And that is what got me interested in Christina Rossetti. For some reason, I love that story. {Also Garson gave an excellent piece of advice, I think.}

{Christina Rossetti as painted by her brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti.}

Do you have any favourite poets?

ta ta for now!

The other day, my father was going out and he agreed to pick up some books at the library for me. {I had put a hold on quite a few books but I thought only a couple had come in.}
Turns out, all 11 of my books were in. Plus one that my sister had put a hold on. Hahaha!
He called to complain that we hadn't told him that he would need a furniture dolly. XD


{From top to bottom: Selected Poems of Carl Sandburg, Selected Poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay, Madam, Will You Talk? by Mary Stewart, Miss Clare Remembers by Miss Read, The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale, My Own Two Feet and A Girl From Yamhill both by Beverly Cleary, Bloomability by Sharon Creech, The Fairacre Festival by Miss Read, The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti, and The Complete Poems of e. e. cummings.}

Anyhow, my family and I are leaving for vacation tomorrow. We're going to stay in a chalet by a lake! I'm very excited because it's my favourite kind of vacation: a relaxing kind where you don't have to go running all over looking at the sights. So, I'm planning on reading a lot, in case you hadn't guessed. I'm also hoping to write and, of course, hang out with my awesome family!
I'll be back in about a week. A bientôt!! :)