A Different Tact

We often encounter questions regarding why we love a particular artist. Every attempt to articulate it seems to fall short. Why do I love an author (musician, director, singer, actor, teacher, field of study, painter)? Because her books jump off my bookshelves at me, begging to be read. I'm compelled to fill the margins with questions, ideas, parallels, and exclamations points.

An objective formula for measuring my love for a book? Tally the total ink flooding the margins.

I love the books that demand to be finished, that cause me to miss dinner dates because I'm in too deep. This is not to say that I could not love other authors, but it explains why I keep choosing to read the books I do.

1 comment :

  1. Reading that was reading my own thoughts. Weird.

    I can't stand having to explain myself in general because I can’t find the words and even if I did; I’d feel as if more were missing.

    How can you truly describe why you love something let alone why you favor one thing over the next?

    Its Tiring trying to tell someone what words etc. do to you.

    How descriptive writers can make you feel as if your tasting the food they’re eating or how an artist can move a paint brush that turns out to move you emotionally while testing what you thought was your truth.
    There is no answer, It just is.