bibliothèque

it has been said before, here and elsewhere, that we have a fantastic public library in this town. not only does it contain 'almost everything' in many many languages, it also has amazingly deep comfortable armchairs in which one can while away many hour (days) reading magazines or staring at passers-by. my former approach to the library was rather result-oriented (hhmm? really?), as in 'find required book in the online library system', 'get to the library', 'find required book', 'get out'.

nowadays, with more hours to while away, and fewer things to do, i end up strolling in unknown sections, browsing through mysterious shelves. and making wonderful discoveries. such as the series of cups and saucers that Japanese artist Shizuka Yokomizo designed once upon a time for Illy. the titles alone (carrot dog, white wall, book) are worth it. not to mention the artwork.
and then true treasure: Honey from a Weed, by Patricia Grey. a magical book, so infused with warmth, food and deep connection that i cannot handle reading more than a page of it at a time. it tells me all kinds of things i really really want to know, without even the shadow of a chance of ever using the knowledge, such as: the pots and pans one needs to own for a nomadic existence among the mountains of Catalunia. the kind of fire you get with dry fig twigs, as opposed to rosemary twigs, or vine twigs, or citrus branches. and how far one can swim across the bay on the greek island of nexos before the fire under lunch burns down to ashes and one must return to eat it. and the strong anti-depressant effect of pounding fresh basil leaves in a stone mortar. it is a book about the richness of experience, and how to make a feast out of poverty. a book about slow food and slow life.

i want a life in which i need to know these things. and i want it now.