James and the Giant Peach Roald Dahl
1961
Weight: 4 oz
Method of Disposal: Leaving in a Book Lending Box
Does anyone understand dreaming and magic like Roald Dahl? It is difficult to get rid of any of his books because of the way that just thinking about them makes me feel. So many childhoods have been influenced and changed by his books and the movies created because of them, mine included. Unfortunately, I cannot only get rid of books I hate. If I do that, I will still have hundreds and my goal will never be achieved.
Lately, I am prone to daydreaming and feel like I am living in a reality that is slightly askew and slightly magical. The pleasure is so intense it creates a tinge of pain. The kind that is best mates with longing. How could I be so lucky? The kind of luck that might get you killed. I am driving in my car, living in a dream, and have no idea, when I get to Point B, what happened to the time I spent getting away from Point A. The kind of luck that makes you forget to open a door before you walk through it. My memories are interlaced with my fantasies. My perception of time has no bearing on man made clocks. I can no longer find myself in words. Modern dance seems to be the only working mirror I can find. I watch, slack jawed, while others move through this ethereal place. I don't know how to dance. Just dream. This is what it feels like to be smitten.
1961
Weight: 4 oz
Method of Disposal: Leaving in a Book Lending Box
Does anyone understand dreaming and magic like Roald Dahl? It is difficult to get rid of any of his books because of the way that just thinking about them makes me feel. So many childhoods have been influenced and changed by his books and the movies created because of them, mine included. Unfortunately, I cannot only get rid of books I hate. If I do that, I will still have hundreds and my goal will never be achieved.
Lately, I am prone to daydreaming and feel like I am living in a reality that is slightly askew and slightly magical. The pleasure is so intense it creates a tinge of pain. The kind that is best mates with longing. How could I be so lucky? The kind of luck that might get you killed. I am driving in my car, living in a dream, and have no idea, when I get to Point B, what happened to the time I spent getting away from Point A. The kind of luck that makes you forget to open a door before you walk through it. My memories are interlaced with my fantasies. My perception of time has no bearing on man made clocks. I can no longer find myself in words. Modern dance seems to be the only working mirror I can find. I watch, slack jawed, while others move through this ethereal place. I don't know how to dance. Just dream. This is what it feels like to be smitten.
I love this veiled love note.
ReplyDeleteIncidentally, James and the Giant Peach is Donnie's favorite book.
I love you both! And I love that you love it.
ReplyDelete