Last night, I was taking pics of the little flower bouquets I made (see below) when I turned the camera on myself. Sometimes I just can’t resist photographing everything in sight. I was in my Pjs, the grey ones with the stars. Then I went to bed early… with Oliver Sacks…
I know, I know. It’s not how it sounds, though I like how it sounds, cozy and intimate. His words in my mind are. Cozy and intimate and enlivening. Anyway. I’ve been happily spending a lot of time with him the last few days, and it’s been good.
I recommend this book, called Oliver Sacks, The Last Interview, and other conversations.
(The previous 12 hours: Yesterday, Oliver’s book led me to googling some stuff he’d mentioned… the painter Franco Magnani and his perfectly remembered depictions of his childhood village in Italy… and another extraordinary painter, a West Indian fellow with autism, Stephen Wiltshire….
I had a great day at Creativity Explored with more extraordinary artists, and did some other stuff, got my car smog-checked so I can register it, went to the gym, came home to Oliver…)
It being both winter and foggy, this morning was unusually dark. It seemed like the middle of the night, but it was 7am. To bring a little cheer into the room, I turned on some of my Scandinavian-style lights. (the pics below were taken a little later, around 8am when the light was starting to show).
After my morning stretches, I sat down with Oliver, he, with his coffee in a “handsome mug”, and me with my oatmeal and tea. (don’t miss watching this delightful one minute video with Oliver and his handsome mug!)