Love is liking ideas.

Charles M. Schulz

Dear Reader, 

I want to tell you that everything will be okay.
I want to tell you that it will get better.
I want to tell you that it all works out in the end. 

But sometimes it doesn’t. 

Most times it is hard and we usually end up getting used to it. 

But there is something you can do in response: read. 

Read until your heart breaks and you can’t stand it anymore.

Read until you have paper cuts from turning pages or blisters from swiping a screen. 

You see, here’s the thing: even at their worst, books won’t abandon you. 

 If they make you cry it’s only because they are that good. 

You can depend on books. 

They will always be there for you. 

Their patience is infinite and they have been known to save lives. 

They can help you become a smarter, more interesting person.

 Embroidery by Sarah K. Benning

Books can probably help you get dates, 

though I don’t recommend you ask that much of them too often 

(you don’t want to limit their power). 

Books — like dogs — are among a handful of things on this planet that just want to be loved. 

And they will love you back, generously and selflessly, requiring very little in return — until they are complete, their light and their wisdom and their hearts sputtering to an inevitable, lonely end. 

Debbie Millman

Dali Does Alice

When I was a girl I was a stage actor. I played Alice in a production of Alice in Wonderland. This led to decades of collecting Alice books and ephemera.

I have a number of editions by wonderful illustrators, including Ralph Steadman and Barry Moser, but had never heard of the ones by Salador Dalí. What a lovely surprise to stumble across these vibrant images from an edition published by Maecenas Press-Random House in 1969. The set includes 12  heliogravures  - one for each chapter of the book. It was printed in a limited edition of 2500 copies.

Old Age Advice

Writer Grace Paley told a story about getting advice from her father on growing old.

My father had decided to teach me how to grow old. I said O.K. My children didn’t think it was such a great idea. If I knew how, they thought, I might do so too easily. No, no, I said, it’s for later, years from now. And besides, if I get it right it might be helpful to you kids in time to come.

They said, Really?

My father wanted to begin as soon as possible.

[…]

Please sit down, he said. Be patient. The main thing is this — when you get up in the morning you must take your heart in your two hands. You must do this every morning.

That’s a metaphor, right?

Metaphor? No, no, you can do this. In the morning, do a few little exercises for the joints, not too much. Then put your hands like a cup over and under the heart. Under the breast. He said tactfully. It’s probably easier for a man. Then talk softly, don’t yell. Under your ribs, push a little. When you wake up, you must do this massage. I mean pat, stroke a little, don’t be ashamed. Very likely no one will be watching. Then you must talk to your heart.

Talk? What?

Say anything, but be respectful. Say — maybe say, Heart, little heart, beat softly but never forget your job, the blood. You can whisper also, Remember, remember.

via BrainPickings / Image CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 via Elise Feliz