thursday august twenty first, two thousand and eight

change is in the air, and it is welcome

sunday august tenth, two thousand and eight

 it's been tough to get on here lately, but the good news is that i've been writing, and loving the results. now i just need to figure if out if it's a short story, song or a comic...

tuesday july twenty second, two thousand and eight

wow... it's a been a while since i've been here.  it already feels good to hear the tapping of the keys.

if you're one of dozens of americans like me, you still prefer paper to digital formats.  you'll never throw away a book, and rarely throw away a sheet of paper, no matter how used it is. 

my love of books began about twenty three years ago, when i was four. i've read and enjoyed countless books since, and to be fair, i've read and been disappointed in a few as well.  but i digress... some of my favorites:

the green journal. a hand bound journal from rhode island's own rag and bone bindery, this is quite possibly my most treasured gift of all time.  a little over ten years ago, it was given to me by a girl that i had been dating for a few days, along with a heartfelt card.  in an old lumina, with my heart racing, this gift sparked the first, "i love you" from me, and ten years later, the green journal, with its glittered cover, sits on our bookshelf next to our wedding album.  i've only written in it a handful of times over the years, as both it's beauty and meaning are so strong, i'd hate to regret having wasted even a page. sometimes i pull it out, and just glance at a couple of the rough edged pages... it's strangely comforting.

the giving tree. i was given this book for christmas in nineteen eighty seven from my mom.  i always loved it, but the real meaning came to my the first time that i read my son's copy to him.  by the time i was done reading it to him i had tears in my eyes, though i could never quite put the reason into words. 

p.s. the missing piece had the same effect!

the lord of the rings/silmarillion/any tolkien book. where to start with this one?  there is no author that can paint the picture that tolkien does for me.  he was a master of words, and had an uncanny ability to translate emotion into word.  the silmarillion was the the first book that i actually read so much that the spine broke in half.  i can literally quote passages in the book from memory...

kafka. sometimes i feel like if my dreams were able to be viewed by others, they would be a kafka story.  his blend of vague paranoia and descriptions of beauty really make me feel at home

nick@nicolashardisty.com

talk to me. i'll listen.