There are a lot of boxes in every room. I am thankful that there are fewer than ever before. If the boxes there are the majority are books and about half will go into various temple libraries soon. Of the remaining books they are primarily art related, museum exhibition catalogs, various fine artists mostly of the Bauhaus era and many from the DaDa. Oh what a visual delight they are. In there are some out of print rare and highly sought after books on printing, print making, and paper making. The paper making is almost exclusively in the Japanese manner.
Now that I have it whittled down I will be going through and deciding where would be the best place to find new homes.
Any books that are of a more personal reading sort will be fair game for disassembling, tearing up and altering, or other creative things which may indeed only serve the purpose of seeing how far can I go.
The dog seems to like her new home though we won’t spend the night there until perhaps Saturday. I’ll work at it a little at a time. I’ve been struggling with breathing. That has really slowed me down. I’m unsure of the cause for this sudden change. Please do not worry, your thoughts are appreciated always. If it gets worse or does not improve I’ll do what needs to be done. If it improves I’ll be happy. In either case I’ll keep you informed. Again please do not worry, after all I’m doing what I can and there isn’t much you all can do. So thoughts, prayers, Odaimoku are perfect.
I leave you with these highlights of the day.
- Movers did not approve of the color of my neighbors and informed me they were black, I suppose in case I was blind. The also did not approve of the children being children. I thanked them for their observations, they were after all accurate even if biased. I did wish them a safe return to Kentucky and South Carolina.
- After the movers left I hung out with my new neighbors and they are indeed not white something for which I am thankful because it meant they were the same ones I spoke with a few days ago.
- I had my hair felt for the first time. I was squatting down as I usually do so I can be on eye level and one of the real young ones came up and started rubbing my head. I was so wandering was going to hug the child but grandpa didn’t think it appropriate, the rubbing of my hair. I said I saw nothing wrong, he was after all being a curious child and so why not. And isn’t that what whites do? Everyone laughed.
- So who is different from the other? Am I different from them? Or are they different from me. Or why not we are all unique and different and similar.
