GoodReads.com for keeps track of what I want to read and where I am within books. I always seem to put the bookmark in the wrong section while I'm reading, if it doesn't fall out completely.
*Yoda voice* Sharing today I am, the currently-reading bookshelf in GoodReads.
Most of the books are on loan from the library although I do own an electronic copy of Its Hard to Make a Difference When You Can't Find Your Keys and a regular copy of Life Makeovers. Library books keep my selections fresher since I feel more free to experiment without being burned on a selection, and occasionally save me from purchasing a book on recommendation that I simply don't care for.
I haven't read any of In Search of King Solomon's Mines, but I read a more recent work by Tahir Shah, The Caliph's House: A Year in Casablanca. I thoroughly enjoyed it, so I can't wait to crack open this older volume of his.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Very Little Patience
I have very little patience for blogs. I have to admit I don't know why I'm writing one. Maybe it is the clamoring of the senses to be let out onto the page for a little while, or maybe it is just a desperate attempt to leave some trace, something that says to the outside world "I was here" even if only for a little while.
Elsewhere (on SparkPeople) I have started a weight loss group for friends, family, and sufferers of schizophrenia and schizoaffective disorder. I named it Butterfly People because butterflies distract and are often unpredictable in their flight patterns. The person afflicted is like a small child entangled in fantasies that flit and lead who knows where.
Here I was thinking more of a set of metaphors I fashioned after a prompt in a book, It's hard to make a difference when you can't find your keys, by Marilyn Paul.
Elsewhere (on SparkPeople) I have started a weight loss group for friends, family, and sufferers of schizophrenia and schizoaffective disorder. I named it Butterfly People because butterflies distract and are often unpredictable in their flight patterns. The person afflicted is like a small child entangled in fantasies that flit and lead who knows where.
Here I was thinking more of a set of metaphors I fashioned after a prompt in a book, It's hard to make a difference when you can't find your keys, by Marilyn Paul.
My life is like fingerpainting. Messy, but colorful, and valued simply because it exists.
My heart is a butterfly, dancing with the colors and motion of Mei in House of Flying
Daggers, no less skillful and beautiful. My feet move to follow my heart.
I am courageous and able, like the martial artist Shu Lien (the platonic interest of monk Li Mu Bai in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). I am able to face each day, in a practical, graceful manner.
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