Books I want to remember
because to some people it looks like a big empty space with nothing in it, but for us, it’s a really important place filled with wildlife and lovely, wonderful communities, and we wanted to protect them.’ She’d appealed to the critical difference between ‘space’ and ‘place’ – one a malleable territory largely Irreplaceable: The fight to save our
... See moreTHE SUN IS A COMPASS chronicles a 4,000-mile human-powered expedition from the Pacific rainforest to the Arctic coast. For six months, Caroline and her husband, Pat, crossed some of the most remote and rugged places left on earth. A unique blend of science, adventure, and personal narrative, the book explores the bounds of the human body and the... See more
The Sun is a Compass — Caroline Van Hemert
Gathering, Priya Parker
Mr Palomar is a delightful eccentric whose chief activity is looking at things. He is seeking knowledge; 'it is only after you have come to know the surface of things that you can venture to seek what is underneath'. Whether contemplating a fine cheese, a hungry gecko, a woman sunbathing topless or a flight of migrant starlings, Mr Palomar's... See more
Italo Calvino • Mr Palomar
Women fill with fury at waste, eco-apocalypse and the pressure to be flawless in a lyrical and oblique short story collection
Lauren Elkin • Florida by Lauren Groff review – rage and refusal as Earth reaps the whirlwind
The light touch of a hairdresser’s hands on one’s scalp, the euphoric energy of a nightclub, huddling with strangers under a shelter in the rain, a spontaneous snowball fight in the street, a daily interaction with a homeless man—such mundane connections, when we closely inhabit the same space, and touch or are touched by others, were nearly lost... See more
Encounterism
Help me remember this book. I always struggle to recall it and remember it.
Relate it to Priya Parker Gatherings
mist comes right then, laying the salt air gently on the fruit, you have something that money can’t buy and chefs can’t create. A perfect, lightly salted blackberry. You can’t make them; it has to come with time and nature. They’re a gift, when you think summer’s over and the good stuff has all gone. They’re a gift.”’ Our path, our magnificent walk, was slipping away from him. Hold on to it, Moth, hold it tight; it’s ours, our bright light in the mess of our lives.