I believe libraries are sacred spaces. Embracing knowledge, experience, and imagination is divine. Amy Hanna recently posted a link to a fine New York library along with her Art Saves story. This gorgeous patinae environment with wood paneled walls, savory surfaces and textures welcomed you to insert yourself into this other world of quiet, calm and exhilaration. I couldn't help but smile, once again, to come home to begin writing about something and simulataneously find an associated story shared somewhere. It's a connected feeling. The library is one fine institution with many ardent admirers.
This connected feeling began from the time I would run about a mile to catch the book mobile in another neighborhood. Oh my goodness, the excitement was more than I could contain when my mother would casually mention-
"you kno-o, I think it's the day for the Book Mobile.. .?"She'd then turn to see my backside springing out the door. There were times I'd be huffing and puffing climbing up those bus steps pleading within my spirit to the mobile librarian- "please don't say it's time to move on, pleeeeeease." I don't think I was ever turned away without being able to quickly fish through to find something. God bless the librarians. Each and every one.
Reading these books created a little wonderland filled with experiences I could never invent. It was amazing. I was reading everything I could get my hands on. I was learning about other worlds,, horse and animals, other children with vastly different lives, and then eventually, young ladies in complex scenarios, the angst of coming of age, men in war, crimes and punishment, and historical biographies.
If it wasn't nailed down I was reading it. I would read a a can of hair spay if that's all I had and, I did. I was pretty content, and grateful to read a dictionary at times when there was nothing else new to read.