In between the mounting chaos and perilous journeys of the mind, body and soul that I have experienced over the last two months either corporeally or otherwise, I never lost sight of the books that I have been perusing (or stacking about me in piles, neat piles, however). They include but are not limited to:
The Selected Writings of Lafcadio Hearn
Selected Poems of Luis de Gongora
Selected Poems of Antonio Machado
sample:
We thought that we could
make our love a grand festival,
kindle new aromas
on unknown mountains,
and hide the secret
of our pallid faces,
because in the Bacchanalia of life
our cups are always empty
while the golden juices of the vine
laugh with a crystalline and foamy echo.
A bird hidden among the branches
of the lonely park
whistles mockingly…
We squeeze
the shadow of a dream into our glass…
And something that is earth in our flesh feels
the moisture of the garden like a caress.
Deep Play by Diane Ackerman (a monumental book IMHO)
Deep adj. Play n. : 1. A state of unselfconscious engagement with our surroundings 2. An exalted zone of transcendence over time 3. A state of optimal creative capacity
Fantasists on Fantasy (highly recommended, especially Moorcock's essay on humor in Fantasy)
The Philosopher and the Wolf by Mark Rowlands (given to me by a friend)
I am also teaching myself conversational French (no kidding!), though with my schedule the way it already is this seemingly will only be accomplished if I am able to duplicate myself. I'll have to read a book on that latter process... I'll let you know how it goes... :)
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