I was just thinking of this same thing the other day. Seeing the different piles of books in different rooms of my house and how every time I put them away in the bookcase they will eventually find their way back into a pile on my table or in the bathroom or next to my bed like they are drawn to each other. The bathroom pile is always different than the bedside pile. Like an evolving sculpture of where my mind is at a certain time. Great stuff Joe!
Absolutely, Jason— it's a deeply organic thing, a reassurance that we actually exist in the spaces we perceive. Difficult not to feel fondly about the piles, and this fondness makes memory work better, somehow. Your point about sculpture is spot on, reminds me of Irving Stone's 'The Agony and the Ecstasy,' about Michelangelo, how he said sculpture was a matter of slowly revealing the figures that exist inherently in the stone.
I was just thinking of this same thing the other day. Seeing the different piles of books in different rooms of my house and how every time I put them away in the bookcase they will eventually find their way back into a pile on my table or in the bathroom or next to my bed like they are drawn to each other. The bathroom pile is always different than the bedside pile. Like an evolving sculpture of where my mind is at a certain time. Great stuff Joe!
Absolutely, Jason— it's a deeply organic thing, a reassurance that we actually exist in the spaces we perceive. Difficult not to feel fondly about the piles, and this fondness makes memory work better, somehow. Your point about sculpture is spot on, reminds me of Irving Stone's 'The Agony and the Ecstasy,' about Michelangelo, how he said sculpture was a matter of slowly revealing the figures that exist inherently in the stone.