I reached into a box of books this week looking for something specific. I was hoping it would be close to the top layer or I would never find it. Instead, I found a very interesting book, The Music of the Spheres: Music, Science and the Natural Order of the Universe which I am now reading. I no long remember what I was looking for, but I do remember grabbing this book and saying, “I want to read this.” But I remembered doing exactly that at Barnes & Noble. I remember bringing it home and opening it up, and… That’s the last I remember. There’s a bookmark a few pages from the beginning from a restaurant that is now closed. Or rather, closed for many years. It must have gotten mixed up with some other books. Maybe we moved around that time and my girlfriend simply packed it in a box. The box I just opened. Anything could have happened. How long had it been, I wonder? It’s the first printing of a paperback from 1995. I’ve had the book for twenty-two years, and yet it seems as fresh in my mind as the day I brought it home. It’s by Jamie Oliver, music critic for the London Times — at least he was, I should check on that. I have long believed that the time to read a book is when you’re ready for it. There are many books that I’ve tried to read through the years. Every few years I read a bit more until one year I start from the beginning, sometimes with complete success. Time moves at its own pace. With or without us. I think I'm ready now.
I reached into a box of books this week looking for something specific. I was hoping it would be close to the top layer or I would never find it. Instead, I found a very interesting book, The Music of the Spheres: Music, Science and the Natural Order of the Universe which I am now reading. I no long remember what I was looking for, but I do remember grabbing this book and saying, “I want to read this.” But I remembered doing exactly that at Barnes & Noble. I remember bringing it home and opening it up, and… That’s the last I remember. There’s a bookmark a few pages from the beginning from a restaurant that is now closed. Or rather, closed for many years. It must have gotten mixed up with some other books. Maybe we moved around that time and my girlfriend simply packed it in a box. The box I just opened. Anything could have happened. How long had it been, I wonder? It’s the first printing of a paperback from 1995. I’ve had the book for twenty-two years, and yet it seems as fresh in my mind as the day I brought it home. It’s by Jamie Oliver, music critic for the London Times — at least he was, I should check on that. I have long believed that the time to read a book is when you’re ready for it. There are many books that I’ve tried to read through the years. Every few years I read a bit more until one year I start from the beginning, sometimes with complete success. Time moves at its own pace. With or without us. I think I'm ready now.