Because I am ca-RAY-zee for the books; they're shiny, they have that smell, when you hold them in your hands you can feel the potential hum between the covers. I also love that oh-so-satisfying "crack" when you break their spine - I feel very Hulk-like.
But before I went on my hunting/gathering foray - and because I know that this bookstore sells a variety of things other than the written word - I presented myself with a challenge.
"Self", I said (please note that the majority of conversations The Baroness engages in are either talking about herself in the 3rd person, or talking to herself)(so very easily self-amused is she), "Self - I dare you to go into that store and use that certificate for everything but a book".
"Self?" I shot back (because the Baroness is such a sassy wit), "you are on like Donkey Kong."
I almost did it.
Out of all embarrassment of riches I procured, I only got one book.
That is some kind of record. For me.
Interestingly enough, today's Thoughtful Thursday source is not from this book, but from an T'ai Chi DVD I scooped up.
But before I went on my hunting/gathering foray - and because I know that this bookstore sells a variety of things other than the written word - I presented myself with a challenge.
"Self", I said (please note that the majority of conversations The Baroness engages in are either talking about herself in the 3rd person, or talking to herself)(so very easily self-amused is she), "Self - I dare you to go into that store and use that certificate for everything but a book".
"Self?" I shot back (because the Baroness is such a sassy wit), "you are on like Donkey Kong."
I almost did it.
Out of all embarrassment of riches I procured, I only got one book.
That is some kind of record. For me.
Interestingly enough, today's Thoughtful Thursday source is not from this book, but from an T'ai Chi DVD I scooped up.
The quote comes from one of China's preeminent poets, Li Bai, who literally roamed the earth from 701 to 762. It is said that he perished during one of his many artistic benders, when he went to embrace the reflection of moon while riding in a boat on the Yangtze River (let's be real here - hasn't this happened to us all at least once in our lives? Praise be the PFD).
I'm afraid I don't know the title of the poem, and my translation and punctuation from 8th century Cantonese might a a little rusty. But enjoy it as you can:
I take my body and breath
And I go to play
beneath the trees in the mountains
We are always three
Counting the sky
And my friend the nurturing earth
Happily
The sky
does not judge me
And the earth
gives me lessons
After class, students and teachers
go their separate ways
But this sadness
I do not know
When I go home
The earth goes with me
And the sky follows me.
And I go to play
beneath the trees in the mountains
We are always three
Counting the sky
And my friend the nurturing earth
Happily
The sky
does not judge me
And the earth
gives me lessons
After class, students and teachers
go their separate ways
But this sadness
I do not know
When I go home
The earth goes with me
And the sky follows me.
And on this blustery fall day, these are just the soothing words I need to hear to appreciate the humble majesty that is the outdoors - the beauty I dare only see through a window.
Have a connected Thursday, everyone.
