ByGD
Although I proceed at almost the pace of Paul Salopek’s Out of Eden Walk, I’m reading my way around the world. After reading Jamaica Kincaid’s Annie John for Antigua and Barbuda at the end of 2021, the next nation on the list was Argentina. I ended up reading Samanta Schweblin’s Fever Dream. Months have passed since I read it, but it’s still just as sharp in mind as when I put it down. Which is to say, it’s pretty fuzzy. early in 2022, but I’m only now getting around to writing about it.
ByGD
Despite my love for filling up passports and my obsession with completeness, I’ve never tried to “win” Independent Bookstore Day for two reasons. First, getting to all the bookstores in one day is too hard. And second, getting to all the bookstores in one day doesn’t leave time for actually browsing the bookstores, and I can never leave a bookstore unexplored once I enter. So each year, I’ve made my own goals. This year was my most challenging.
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ByGD
It really is quite satisfying to look back over the year and be reminded of all the books I read. It’s kind of like catching up with old friends.
ByGD
I am slowly working my way through countries that start with A in the Read the World (or Reading Around the World, depending where you look) Challenge. That means that after reading Transparent City from Angola, the next destination was Antigua and Barbuda. It’s another country I knew next to nothing about, so my homebound hide was excited to visit, even if it was only between the pages of a book.
ByGD
Many years ago, I traveled around northern Japan with friends, exploring the hot springs resorts. At one isolated spot in the mountains, which we called “the grandma onsen” both for its clientele and old fashioned decor, I experienced a bout of insomnia. After hours of failing to fall asleep, I got up and finished my book. Then, since it was closer to sunrise than midnight, I gave up and went outside. I stationed myself on a little platform above a lake, and was soon joined by a grandma. We stood together in silence as the outline of the mountains across from us gradually became visible and the hillside brightened from grayscale to color. It was kind of cloudy, and I never actually felt a moment of “sunrise.” I was a little disappointed. But at some point, the grandma next me concluded the show was over. She let out a little “Ha!” of satisfaction, clapped her hands together, and bowed once at the mountain before smiling at me and wordlessly walking away.
Years later I read about an art project called Applause Encouraged.
…Scott Poblano’s Applause Encouraged, which happened at Cabrillo National Monument in San Diego in 2015. On a cliff overlooking the sea, forty-five minutes before the sunset, a greeter checked guests in to an area of fold-out seats cordoned off with red rope. They were ushered to their seats and reminded not to take photos. They watched the sunset, and when it finished, they applauded. Refreshments were served afterward.
How to Do Nothing by Jenny Odell, p. 6
The old lady in Japan already understood that kind of art and made it part of her daily life. I didn’t quite get it then, but I’d like to live more that way now.