The Talking Book
By John R. Greenwood
It follows me around like a loyal mutt. It never turns its back on me or takes a day off. I try to pretend I’ve moved on to other things but I really haven’t. I can’t complete an entire day without that damn book pulling at me. Here it is again, stalking me in the quiet of our living room. It shows up wherever it wants, when it wants and I have no control over it. The book shouts at me to listen. I pick it up thumb through the pages and there I am, again imprisoned by it’s words. I cup my ear and listen as it speaks to me in mysterious ways. The photographs, the prose, the all encompassing aura that will not release it’s grip. My journey with this faded relic from the 1960’s is just beginning. I simply need to find the trailhead. I have a sense, a clue, a premonition, but it remains blurred and just out of reach. It is hard to understand and hard to explain. The only thing clear is how tangled I become trying to sort out what the future holds for me and a book called, “The Hudson River.”
By Jack Lewis the author |
By Jack Lewis the painter |
I think you are looking for a return to nature? -- barbara
ReplyDeleteBarbara, I have always had a connection there as well as to the Hudson River, I really believe it has to do with the artist and the way he assembled this book. I want to retrace his journey and maybe do one of my own in a similar style. I think it's a "Pull" I can't refuse.
DeleteJust start, take a step in a forward direction and the rest will follow for you and the rest of us. I'm taking this advice as well.
ReplyDelete