Vibe for this week’s note is this lovely jazz number:

Who are these people reading screenplays in book form? What are you getting from it? Are you acting it out in front of the mirror, one minute Dumbledore, the next minute Grindelwald?

I started and finished Piranesi in one sitting. This is one of those books that has either 1-star or 5-star reviews, and I give it a safe 4 because I really liked it. To quote my rare Goodreads review:

The slow unravelling of the story made me think of the sea, sitting beside it and staring at it: you start looking while it’s calm but before you know it, the tide is strong and you’re getting sucked in.

My other literary companions for the week were George RR Martin, Pico Iyer and Haruki Murakami. I wonder how would they have gotten along with each other at a dinner party, but they kept me company amicably enough. I have also discovered a penchant for food memoirs, so secondhand paperbacks by MFK Fisher and George Orwell are on their way to my bookshelf as I write this.

Speaking of home, I made a small but monumental decision—or rather, a mentality shift—to begin searching for my own forever home. Naturally I have jumped 10 years ahead, to deciding how it will look and feel and where my books will have their place and where I will place my bar, but as of right now the house itself is just a whisper in the wind. I’m just putting this out there to cash in my good karma if I have any left over from past happinesses. Someplace with lots of sunlight, please, I am a houseplant in disguise.

The strong rains have been knocking flowers off my bougainvillea plant, so I have decided to preserve them in books I love and will reread someday. The ones with sadder plotlines get two flowers, obviously.

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