[L, diary, ephēmeris] 1) BLOG

     Briefly, I now have two most wonderful books written by Marie Popova. The first is called THE VELOCITY OF BEING, Letters to Young Readers and though it is addressed to children, it is equally brilliant for all ages; readers or not-yet-readers, alike. The second is titled, FIGURING, and is decidedly for appreciative readers of poetically crafted dissertations, hugely inspiring, about the 'complexities, varieties, and contradictions of love, and the human search for truth, meaning, and transcendence, through the interwoven lives of several historical figures across four centuries.'  Perhaps later there will be another blog post for that book; it is the other, first, that has stimulated this brief post.

     Weekly, it is gratifying to see the Saturday kids arrive and immediately settle themselves into the morning with a selection from their 'library' shelf of books. 

Even Chay Chay, who has very little English to speak, muchless read.  His undiminished joy is to throw himself on the floor with paper and colored pen, and copy random pages of texts as well as illustrations; as if words were simply another style of ornamentation. 

     The Velocity of Being's format is composed of a single page for each author's letter with the facing page paired to an artist's illustration of that letter's content. Brilliant.  Concise.  Powerful. Totally different than any other book on our shelves. 

     On the Saturday the book arrived at the house, efforts to introduce its format and messages of the letters was somewhat lost in the unusually chaotic hubbub of the day's adventures.  Perhaps, also, the children were baffled and a little apprehensive about the tears that choked me up as I read aloud one of the letters to them...although they've seen it is a habit I have when moved, the display of emotion over books is something they have no experience with in their rural culture.

     So, please, imagine how moving it was to be cleaning up after the children that evening, to come upon the book with a piece of bond paper wedged casually between the pages.  Chay Chay's drawing style immediately identified him as the owner of paper; his singular preference is to fill a page with a multitude of itsy-witsy little figures--dozens of them on dozens of pages--every week. He draws as effortlessly and regularly as he breathes... 

This is the opened book, A Velocity of Being, with the page of drawings discovered within it:

     Chay Chay has no idea what the letter says about the power of reading, but the related illustration reached him, motivated him, and I had the private joy of discovering his path in the casual clutter left behind at the end of that day.

     What delights me most is that I can find a match for every one of his illustrations except the figure at the top of his copied ladder and moon...I think he has marvelously inserted himself in it.

     What do you think?