Ah, libraries, the still point of a spinning world. It is fitting to be taking pictures in the library again, not just because my book-lined skirt matches the shelves so well, but because I've been finding solace and spending time with my nose buried in a novel quite often these days. If I were an author I think it would be my greatest privilege not to be on a best-selling list, but to have my book take up residence in some beautiful library, where it might rub elbows with other greats and get read and read again for decades by various young readers. Sometimes I think the world of books is a little too alluring; that to slip between the pages into some other universe that sparks dangerously into your heart might make you forget or overly resent the demands of this all too real world. But there are also lessons to be learned from strangers you cannot meet outside the written page, lessons experience in one surreal world that are still easily applied to your own. As you learned to read and write from scribbles on white page, so you can also learn to forgive, or be brave. I never really dated before my husband, being unintentionally single for twenty-odd years, but I experienced romances that defied time and space and dragons. I think if I want my life to resemble anything, more than a movie or musical or hashtag of goals, then what I would most like it to be modeled after would be some storybook that inspired me when I was younger. So that in some way I might dance between the pages of my favorite novels forever.
Le Beret Francais beret, Joules tweed jacket, vintage brooch, Miss Patina blouse, Joanie skirt c/o, Modcloth heels