Dear Whoever…, #67

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Dear Whoever Knows That Every Girl Thinks About Her Wedding At Least Once, If Not From Time To Time,     3-26-2012

“A woman seldom asks advice before she has bought her wedding clothes.” -Joesph Addison

“A wedding is like a funeral, except that you get to smell your own flowers.” -Grace Hansen

“I chose my wife, as she did her wedding gown, for qualities that would wear well.” -Oliver Goldsmith

Sorry for not posting very recently. I’ve been writing posts but they’re drafts and my computer is stupid and doesn’t show me my drafts. They look like they were typed in white font. Therefore, I’ve just been saving them till I can get to a library computer and post them all.

I have a plan, don’t worry. This has just been bouncing around in my head for awhile now because for some reason I’ve been thinking of my wedding a lot more lately then usual. It’s not because I’m approaching the age most people are getting married. I’m far from there believe me. No. I’ve been thinking of it because of something else which brings me to the next part of this post.

10

Dad,    3.26.12

I have a game today so I have to leave soon so I’ll try to hit what I want to say with few words. I cried for you last night. It was completely out of the blue. It just hit me. The fact I’ll never see your smile again. Or hear your jokes. Or listen to you tease me. Never hold me close again. Never ask me what’s the matter ever again. That I was alone. Without you. This isn’t exactly a new revalation for me but the way it hit me it might as well have been. It seemed so fresh. And even though I knew it was coming for years, it didn’t help. I thought about what it’d be like after you died, before you died. Then I thought how much I had underestimated. I thought I could be prepared but I never could have been. It’s impossible to be prepared for that sort of thing. I’ll never hear you chatising me again. I’ll never get one of those rueful looks or I’ll never be in on any of your little jokes again. Like the one where you told Mom we were getting 30more ducks and they’d be arriving tomorrow when she was at work, ain’t that right eshy? And I’d lie and add to the story and we’d keep it spinning. Those make me smile and sting my eyes at the same time when I look back on the ones I remember. Last night I also realized that my worst fear came true. I am forgetting you. Just like Kris. Although I tried my hardest to burn you into my memory. I’m forgetting a little of what you look like even though I’m exactly the same. I’m forgetting some of the memories with you and that made me cry the most last night. I knew before you died that you wouldn’t make it to my highschool graduation, or college, or my graduation in the military, if I choose that road, and my wedding. It always stung then but now it stings worse. It’s bad. It’s really painful. Almost like that one time I had that needle through my toe and you had to hold me down, but it’s worse then that.

I think I’ll have Sister as my maid of honor, she’ll be wearing blue. As will I. It’ll bring out our eyes that we inherited from you. Jeff D., your friend, and Lisa stopped by yesterday. It got me thinking as I have been ever since your memorial service, about who’s gonna walk me down the aisle because I know you won’t be able to. I thought of Jim B. I thought about Denny. I thought about Jeff. He’s been weird since you died. Different a little. Quieter. His little partner in mischief isn’t here to back his jokes or talk engines with him or talk about the old workplace with. I feel bad for him because he misses you. It’s obvious. I think I want Danny Whitt Danny Whitt to walk me down the aisle. I’ve always liked him. He’s been really good to you. He’s been good to us. Remember when we got the truck stuck last year on our last shooting expadition, and we called him and he helped us out. He’s offering to take me shooting again and I want to, I do. But it’s to fresh. Your death is too fresh even almost three months later.

I hope you’re at my wedding. Or at least looking down on it. Since you’re not gonna be there, who’s gonna try to talk me out of it? That was to evoke a rueful smile. I’d give anything to see your smile again. Just thinking of how I never will, I’m tearing up. Anywho, Dad, I better get on with getting ready cause I’ve got to leave soon. I love you. And I miss you a ton. Oh, one more thing. The Sister and Mom are spending a ton since you’ve gone. I think it’s to fill the void, I’m trying to warn them to stop but they don’t listen much to me. Mom’s been kinda reckless. It scares me. I don’t feel safe around anyone anymore without knowing you’re not here to back me up. I’ve been having haunted thoughts of that voicemail you left me 3 years ago on my first day of school at that new school. You said you hoped I had a good day and if I didn’t then it’d get better with time. To keep my chin up. And that you loved me. And you were sorry that you couldn’t be there and that you wished you were to pick me up from school. And it makes me sob. I cry a lot when I think of anything to deal with you, if ya haven’t noticed. I know you wouldn’t want me to but I can’t help it. I know crying isn’t gonna make the pain go away. It’s not gonna do anything. But it’s reflex now. But now I’m just making excuses, trying to prolong saying goodbye-again.

I got a new shrink. Rememeber I told you first that I was thinking about doing counciling and I told you why I was apprehensive? I do. But I got a new one and I like her alot better. I guess that’s the last bit of news I have. I’m on the soccer team if you didn’t gather that from me saying that I have games and practice all the time now. I remember telling you with much excitement that I made the volleyball team and you didn’t look suprised at all and said “I figured you would.” I wish you could see one of my games. I’ve got a very responsible spot. Right in front of our goalie. We’ve lost every game so far but we’re doing better then last year. I’m team captain you know. I hate it. I don’t get to do anything special but call the coin in the air and pick what side. Now I really have to get ready. My friend’s gonna show up cause we gotta take her to the game. With love, eshy,

 

Dear Whoever…, #35

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Dear Whoever Likes Books,                                                                 9/17/2011

Some quotes:

  • Anyone who says they have only one life to live must not know how to read a book.  ~Author Unknown
  • The worth of a book is to be measured by what you can carry away from it.  ~James Bryce
  • If there’s a book you really want to read but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.  ~Toni Morrison
  • A good book has no ending.  ~R.D. Cumming
  • Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend.  Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.  ~Attributed to Groucho Marx
  • You know you’ve read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend.  ~Paul Sweeney
  • Fiction reveals truths that reality obscures.  ~Jessamyn West
  • Books can be dangerous.  The best ones should be labeled “This could change your life.”  ~Helen Exley
  • Books are not made for furniture, but there is nothing else that so beautifully furnishes a house.  ~Henry Ward Beecher

     What I’m about to blog about, I am not the first to blog about, not even the first to blog about on WordPress, but each person’s words are their own and every person says words a different way. In the current Freshly Pressed section on your WordPress homepage is a post about the very thing I’m going to post about but I assure you, I didn’t see that till after I had already written my first draft and thrown it out. Here’s a link to that blog:
http://talesfromanopenbook.wordpress.com/2011/09/16/mysterious-paper-sculptures/ . And here’s a link to the same bog that they linked: http://txikitoplanet.posterous.com/mysterious-paper-sculptures-at-edinburgh-libr. And finally, here’s the link that I first saw: http://community.thisiscentralstation.com/_Mysterious-paper-sculptures/blog/4991767/126249.html. Also if you get the Alice Marvels newsletter well that’s where I first heard about it from which then linked me to the last link I gave you. From there made me want to post, and from wanting to post I went on WordPress to find the other two links.

     Enough though about how I found out, about the artist, he or she remains a mystery. They are leaving beautiful, hand sculpted-sculptures in libraries in Edinburgh, Scotland. These remarkable and breath-taking sculptures are made out of books, paper. They’re so detailed and precise. Beautiful beyond belief.

     He’s leaving notes along with these sculptures at libraries. Notes similar to this one: “A gift in support of libraries, books, words, ideas….. and all things *magic*” I wish he’d make a stop in America, cause I changed my mind, if I could meet anybody in the world, it’d have to be the guy or gal who made these, I mean that sincerely, there’s almost nothing that I’d like more than to shake their hand. The Mystery Artist leaves these in libraries where they sometimes go days without being discovered. Some are talking about putting them in museums or other places of the sort, some say put them in glass boxes just where the creator left them. I agree with the second opinion and so do some of the libraries who have received one of these generous gifts like this one:


This one was left right there among the shelves of books.

This one as you can see was on a windowsill in a library. This has to be my second favorite, well perhaps my third, well fourth. They’re all epic, all the way around.

Here’s yet another beautiful one. The note for this one had to do with the library’s Twitter name. Which was very clever of the artist. The library it was found in was the Scottish Poetry Library and the library’s Twitter account was: @byleaveswelive . The note read: “It started with your name @byleaveswelive and became a tree.…
… We know that a library is so much more than a building full of books… a book is so much more than pages full of words.…
This is for you in support of libraries, books, words, ideas….. a gesture (poetic maybe?)” This tree was the first sculpture found in March of 2011.

 

This sculpture is of a gramophone and a coffin that was found in the National Library of Scotland in June of 2011. It was sculpted out of a copy of Ian Rankin’s, Exit Music. The note on this one, along with all the others, were addressed to the recieveing library’s Twitter account. It read:  “For @natlibscot – A gift in support of libraries, books, words, ideas….. (& against their exit)” >>>

 THIS one is my all time favorite. The one right above is my second. It was found August 24th, 2011 along with another one at the Edinburgh International Book Festival. This one was addressed to @edbookfest (The Book Festival). It was left and found on one of the signing tables at the festival in the Bookshop. The note left with this one reads: “To @edbookfest ‘A gift’ This is for you in support of libraries, books, words, ideas…… & festivals xx” It’s a teacup mounted upon a stand, that’s standing on a book with a lovely cupcake sitting next to it. This sculpture includes a teabag with letters cut out on it, reading: “by leaves we live” . And in the teacup were the words swirled to read: “Nothing beats a nice cup of tea(or coffee) and a really good BOOK”. The book the stand is mounted to serves as the tea tray and on the tray next to the cupcake reads “except maybe a cake as well”. On the tray also are “coffee stains”  and a little saying that reads: “This cup is awarded to @edbookfest” . Here’s some closer pics of the sayings, teabag, cup, cupcake, tray, book mount, and coffee spills.

the mount and tea bag/ coffee stains, the cupcake ((LOOK AT THE DETAIL, THE FOLDS OF THE LINER))

This one was the other one found at the book festival. It was addressed to @edincityoflit (UNESCO Edinburgh City of Literature) and was found by their stand in the entrance tent. The tag on it reads: ” To @edincityoflit ‘A gift’ LOST (albeit in a good book) This is for you in support of libraries, books, words, ideas…. “No infant has the power of deciding….. by what circumstances (they) shall be surrounded.. Robert Owen” .

It was carved out of The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner by James Hogg. The following picture is of the back of the carving to the left.

  Pretty great huh? Yeah, I know. And that’s not all of them.

  Another scupture has been found in the Central Lending Library on George IV Bridge. It’s a book with a maginfying glass mounted atop it.

                                                                                                        
 

Here’s a picture of that circle you see cut out of the top of the book.

Get this(below) is the magnifying glass actually magnifying the words below it. The words in the picture above. Note that the magnifying glass is made out of paper like the whole sculpture and all the other ones. And below is the picture of the magnifying glass on display exactly where it was left and then discovered. Wickedly awesome. And a little down to the right is the note that was left along with the magnifying glass.

Below this text that I’m writing is one of the more elaborate sculptures of the set. It’s a scene in a paper cineama, one blog writes describing the scene- “punters arrayed on seats watching men and horses coming alive from the screen and charging outwards.”

 

See how their seats are books? Genius.

This is the left side of the above picture. The people made out of paper and their seats are books ; books made out of paper!  Look above(the very first picture on here) to see the left side of this sculpture. It’s pretty epic to see how the men on horses are coming out from the middle of the screen.

 See what I mean about how epic and complex and how  much time must have been put in it to make it look like that. I’m talking about the split in the screen that the men riding horses are coming through. Awesome yes? I didn’t lie and I won’t even say I told you so.

Okay, actually I will say it, I told you they were epicly awesome and don’t try to lie to  yourself and say that they’re not because you know that they are.

                                                                                                           the awed, eshy,

P.S. Guess what I wish for besides to shake the artist’s hand?……To live in Scotland, well not to live, but maybe a couple weeks visit. (; that’d be awesome, am I right?

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