Books are food for the mind, and at times, for the soul as well. More often than not books brought comfort to me. From the time I began ‘getting’ into reading, which was way back before Junior High School, I cannot recall a time when there wasn’t a book, or two, that was being read. Even to this day.
I enjoy reading just as much as I enjoy writing. Books allow you to escape; books feed the mind; books enlighten and convey new and different ideas and perspectives. Books entice and educate. Books categorize and depict vivid scenes from very active imaginations as well as facts, truths, myths and ‘what-if’s’. Books take you on journey’s that have never been touched; explored; seen or realized; and, are brought to life with the words that are woven in an intricate and sometimes articulate way.
Books, however, are not the only source of entertainment. I have discovered that by going over the front page within this sanctuary, I am taken to places I never knew existed. A random serendipity brought me to several Diarists who have so captivated me, that I have begun reading them from their inception. Who would have thought that so many “writers” and/or word dabblers, would tickle my sense of adventure and lure me within its woven web of phrases, innuendos and… life?
In fact prior to adding these Diarist’s to my bookmark list, or sending a friend request so I could read them, I believed that I had been swimming in the depths of the vast ocean of Open Diary. Alas, I realize now that I had only been skimming the surface!
Writings of fiction and non-fiction exposed and written in a way that I find myself returning over and over and over again. I do believe I have developed “crushes” with these authors! Kidding, of course, but I have become addicted so to speak, to a few in the short time I have returned, and find myself looking forward to picking up where I left off when next I visit them again.
These diarists are inspiring to me and I do believe, that when I grow up, I’d like to be able to write at their caliber. It is not just the books that allow me to escape, but reading the entries of those that express themselves in a manner that I can “see” what they’re talking about.
Serendipities are all around us and are usually found right in front of us. It’s a matter of looking for them. Or is it them finding you?