Come By The Hills

"Come by the hills to a land where life is a song, and stand where the birds fill the air with their joy all day long. Where the trees sway in time and even the wind sings in tune, and the cares of tomorrow can wait till this day is done."

Isn't that beautiful?
It's from a Celtic Thunder song.

I'm sitting in my room with bed unmade, folded laundry waiting to be put away, a half-eaten bowl of slowly melting ice cream next to me and candles lit. My mom and my cousin are downstairs watching tv and as much as I love the Bravo channel shows, my idea of relaxing after working does not involve watching a bunch of catty women scream at each other on The Real Housewives of New York: Reunion. Therefore, I decided to blog.

I finished another book! The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I fell in love... again! The story was engrossing, the characters were inescapable, and the writing, oh, the writing was outstanding. I especially loved Fitz's excessive use of the word "nebulous".... Brilliant! The metaphors were stunning- the use of irony was admirable. Every phrase was scripted beautifully, each word carefully chosen.

"As she talked and caught his eyes and turned her lovely head, she moved him as he had never been moved before. The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance. That was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it- then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherished all beauty and illusion."

"There were silences as murmorous as sound."

"He was saying this over and over to himself with his teeth tight shut, and a perfect orgy of hate and fright in his eyes."

"From the tenement windows leaned rotund, moon-shaped mothers, as constellations of this sordid heaven; women like dark imperfect jewels, women like vegetables, women like great bags of abominably dirty laundry."

I think I found my favorite phrase in the entire book when I came upon this line:

"Anything was better than this cup of perspiration and tears."

Something about it just sends shivers up and down my spine. It's a beautiful sentence.
I cannot wait to buy The Beautiful and Damned and add to my collection, and to read Fitz's other books. I love his style of writing, it's just so graceful.


I went downtown and visited Powell's Books today. The entire bookstore is the size of one city block. It's a reader's paradise! I bought two books for six dollars (one new and one used... Thank God for Dover editions). Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre.
I wasn't able to finish Jane Eyre because I couldn't renew it as it was on hold at the library, so I bought my own copy..... I haven't ever read Wuthering Heights, either, and usually it's not my custom to buy books I haven't read, but in this case I made an acception as I have it on good authority that both of these books I will love.
I can't read them yet, even though I've already broken into the first two chapters of Wuthering Heights. Shamefully, I have made no further progress in Anna Karenina and Great Expectations has been occupying my time otherwise. I still haven't even started Dead Souls by Gogol and The Age of Innocence has only been delved into the first 60 or so pages.

I think I should start a bookclub.
I've been playing around with the idea in my head for a while now, I can't do it this summer.... but maybe I'll start one up in the fall. I've been wanting to get into a book club for the past year or so, but I couldn't do it with all of the school I had... but I no longer have that on my shoulders (taking a year off is quite useful, actually), so there's really no better time than now! Or, shall I say, September?


It's time for "Lyric of the week!" Here's the lyric:

"But where do you go to, my lovely? When you're alone in your bed. Tell me the thoughts that surround you, I want to look inside your head." - Where Do You Go to My Lovely (Marie Claire) - Peter Sarstedt.
Awesome song, you all should go listen to it! :)

It's about that time of year to get out the old Audrey Hepburn movies. I haven't watched Roman Holiday in eons!

Mmm, I just remembered, I have a piece of prose (more like a well thought-out journal entry) from the other day at the beach, after my epiphany about writing.
I'll copy it here.

--------------------------------------------------------------
Sunday, June 13th, 2010 -impromptu day at Cannon Beach

I think I may have figured it out. I'm a writer. I know it now.
It happened while at the Cannon Beach Bookstore. I was poring lustily over classics and poetry books, when I found the art section. Suddenly, upwards of 5 titles jumped out at me.
They were all books about perfecting and encouraging your writing. I have several books like this already, but I picked them all up anyway and leafed through each one...
Memories came flooding back of Dorothea brande's "15 minutes every morning after you wake," and "keep forever the childlike innocence", and Annie Dillard's "house-building" and "typewriter erruptions". Just as I was musing over starting these practices up again, Kailey called me over to look at, wonder of wonders, a cookbook.
The dreaded, yet inescapably tempting, alternative to authorhood. I walked over, mind still stuck on writing. The cookbook bored me. I continued on my search of the 'classics' wall covered in Penguin paperback editions. We left the bookstore. Next, was EVOO, the cooking school. It smelled delicious. It was there that I realized I love cooking so much, and its a huge part of me, but its not where my heart is. It never really was.
My heart is in words. Words are as much, and maybe more, a part of me as flesh and blood and sinew. I've been anticipating this moment for awhile now. Friends and cousins have true passion for food, my love for it doesn't compare. I've seen that for awhile... But still I couldn't give up chef-hood and culinary school. But right now, in this moment, in this beautiful gift of a sunny day, I'm sure that I'm meant to pursue writing. Nothing's stronger than this feeling, this knowledge. The freedom of writing brings me to my knees.
I long for it, eagerly now I stretch out my hands...
I know now that I am a writer... I've always known, but now I see myself a writer, and its beautiful. "Nothing is worth more than this day".... Starting today, I continue on my writer's journey! Everything makes so much sense now. How could I ever have been confused? It's like there never was an option, a choice. It's writing.
It always has been and it always will be.


--------------------------------------------------------------

And that, my friends, is the way the cookie crumbles. :)

I'm off to continue my traverse through literature!
More thoughts and rambles tomorrow.
Sweet dreams!
Xx