A library of the mind…

This week I don’t feel like writing much. I have plenty of topics swirling in my head, but the individual threads seem connected to too many things to safely pull on, and maybe that’s the issue. I usually read about 4 books at a time, a cadence that suits the variability of my erratic thought processes. I’m currently swimming in the essays of Audre Lorde the feminist poet, reading a memoir about building a small house and forays into architectural theory by Michael Pollan. I’m digging into Thoreau’s Walden, an American naturalist classic about living with the land. Last week I wrapped up a biography of Octavia Butler the reclusive, prolific and prescient science fiction writer, and also the quick but dense read Escape from Capitalism which was translated from Italian and details how fascism and capitalist profiteering are typically, historically, holding hands with war and exploitation.

Squint hard enough and an ethos comes into view. When I find the point of view and drive to write more than I read, maybe I’ll be able to make it more clear myself.