Today I refer to a post I wrote years ago on my personal/photoblog; a blog I’ve grossly neglected, of later, due to time constraints.
Few things have change since I wrote the post, for example, I wasn’t a writer back then but only a reader. I’ve fully embraced the digital; it’s a gateway to worlds I couldn’t otherwise access.
But some things remain the same, you can read some of them here. Reading is my “ME” time. Reading time is as precious as writing time, so I treat both with respect they command.
“Reading makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere.” ~ Jean Rhys
I enjoy armchair travel more especially, when I explore the world through the written word than through an Idiot Box. Reading allows me to employ all my senses, and let my imagination run wild.
The other day, I visited a bookstore with the intention of buying one of my colleagues a gift. I ended up buying myself the books in the picture; one of my bookaholic tendencies. And just like that, I managed to increase my reading list …*sigh*
In my defense though, it’s not very common to find poetry books in English here (in my city) though there is a decent selection of poetry in Finnish. I made a point of showing my appreciation by thanking the cashier for their efforts so that she can pass on the message to the buyer.
I could go on and on about reading, but at this point I would love to hear what does reading mean to you.