The smoke is bugging me so I’ve been struggling to find things to do. I don’t feel sharp or engaged in my coursework. Instead I feel off and anxious, waiting for the day when the air gets better and things return to normal. It’s perfect for mundane tasks. I have a huge stack of books that need sifting through. To be put in my quote spreadsheet, to be entered into the notes for various ongoing projects.
I am planning on doing a post/essay on commonplace books, I have several in my pile awaiting my time and attention, about my faith that this method of dealing with books makes sense. I don’t want to own them. I grew up amongst the chaos of hoarding and have moved around a lot. Books are heavy. I usually get them out of the library. It’s nice having the quotes in a digital and searchable format. I am trying to have faith that this thing I’m doing makes sense and is leading me somewhere.
It does have the perk of revisiting the work a second time as I go through and find the quotes I wanted to collect.
“That’s what I do though, I just collect interesting photos”
I collect quotes, ideas, wisdom. I try to make connections. I hope to do more than just have piles of books and to do lists. I hope to do things with these quotes. I hope that this workflow is leading me somewhere. That I can move beyond the comfort of reading and do more reading.
Because books feel like home. I often feel incredibly alone in this world, I think a lot of us do. I’m queer and neurodivergent, I don’t operate on the same wave length as many in this world. But as a writer I have the perk of a collection of material written by people who share a big thing in common with me. It’s easy to relate to these words. When I’ve had nobody I’ve had books to keep me company. During these strange times of fracture upon fracture upon fracture (global warming, housing crisis, covid, wildfire smoke) I have books. When the world returns to normal and uni ends I can go forth and try to find more physical spaces that feel like home, I can try to build a home for myself in this strange world.
“Although we were both visitors, the interaction made me feel for a moment as though that club and Tokyo were home — as if I’d always been there. Maybe home was simply any place where you felt seen and welcome”