I purchased a book. It looked beautiful, sounded interesting, and the author is nice. She wrote an inscription in the cover that gave me a tingly feeling. I expected to be entertained, I didn't expect to be changed. There's something special that happens when we feel resonance with art, whether it's a melody that tightens our chest, or a painting that in a blur of colour can simply make us feel.
It's personal. A masterpiece for one is a disaster to others. But for me, in this book, I could taste the sweetness of youth, hear the lyric of a an era past, and feel the heat of the Australian sun and the grit of dust on my skin.
In places I had to stop, overcome and just needing to absorb, so I could dive back in an experience the next exquisite moment. It melted wrong and right into an intoxicating smoke and all I could do was inhale. For me it was at once poetic, elusive and intangible, but then so gritty, and raw, and real, it make me squirm.
It reminded me of the magic of literature. What it's important. How we can escape what we need to escape, or challenge what we believe. How we can envision a new perception or simply bask in the radiance of something beautiful.
So this book?
Want to know what the inscription said? It said "May you find what you yearn for." The funny thing is reading this book helped me see what that is. I want to soak in rivers of words, I want to swim in new realities, I want to float on waves of possibilities. I want to think, I want to imagine, I want to dream, but most of all I want to be moved. So today I got what I yearn for. What do you yearn for?
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