Letters, Quotes, Memory,
& Recipes.
I recently tried, for the first time, to read Pride and Prejudice. After eighty pages, I gave up. My friend Sarah, who lent me the book on request, called it one of her “comfort books,” and I fully expected to find my place in the story. Perhaps it’s not my time yet, so let’s just say I hope to try again some day.
I already knew from my own experience that memorizing poetry was doing a work on my interior spaces, but I haven’t tried especially hard to put language around what that work is. I have felt it and known its power, and I have returned time and again to seek out beautiful poetry, to commit the lines to memory, and to give them safekeeping in my heart.
Two books have begun to stitch me up inside. The change feels subtle but real.
Two people dear to me, my sister Holly and my friend Ellen, sent me these two books in the mail a couple months ago, both for very different reasons. I have learned through Annie to accept whatever comes to teach me, from wherever it comes.
