The thing about a summer storm is the winds change fast. In New England, we love storms because they sweep down and clear out humid air that has gone too heavy, too still, leaving crisper air and bluer skies.

Cleaning out my bookcase, more like wall of books, in preparation for a big move, my biggest yet: Leaving this side of the Atlantic for the other. For France. With much to process and many to say goodbye to, I have been packaging each moment tenderly. It’s a strange feeling when what you pray for comes to you. A natural feeling of disbelief, as if a secret you want to protect. As if spoken out loud the wish won’t come true.

As I confessed in my previous entry, it’s a curious thing what goes into a collection. And since this is the biggest downsize I’ve ever had to do, some core themes really rose to the top. As if any surprise, my chosen literary companions are centered on flowers, especially dutch fine art floral books, poetry, and cookbooks.

Going through all my books I realize everything I’ve acquired has been a contributing piece in the bigger tapestry of art and living (is there really a separation?) and have in some way informed how I go about my days. Precious as these objects are, this move, these stirring life moments, or storms to stay on theme.. confront one with a heavier reflection: the weight of materials vs. the weight of experience. As much as I love having accumulated this precious collection, it feels like the trade for what’s to come outweighs anything I could dream.