My mother spent her lifetime researching and reading everything metaphysical. After she passed away, I was gifted this most incredible library of rare and amazing metaphysical books from her beautiful hand crafted custom built library - at least 4000 + books total. It was my most precious treasure and cherished connection to my mother. But let me tell you, (Hear me say this in my most ridiculous New Yorker Jewish accent) THAT IS A HELLUVA LOTTA BOOKS for a single girl to keep, while trying to make it in show business.
The largest most beautiful wood frame of the library itself was safely packed as well as all of the books were stored carefully in a dark cool storage space deep in the bowels of Silicon Valley during the Dot Com Boom. Money was flowing well back then and I could afford to keep such a luxury, even though it was way too big for my apartment.
I was able to give the bookcases to my brother to enjoy to keep them in the family. The books lived in my storage unit until the very rough income down turn and crash in 2001, a month before 911. I lost that storage unit to an auction because I could no longer afford the payments and had to relocate to San Francisco to find better work. THE BIGGEST REGRET OF MY LIFE.
I was reminded of my dream of this yesterday in a beautiful conversation. I have always wanted to rebuild that master library in her honor, yet make it even bigger, better and more beautiful. It's yummy being a sentimental romantic girl at heart, but tough when she gets attached to big heavy hard to move keepsakes. My friends who had helped move all of those boxes were relieved, that is for sure. 😉
I will never give up on the dream of rebuilding that library, and even though I may have lost her old books. I hope to create a new one in her honor one day. The fact that I have dyslexia played a factor in this as well. I read, just really slow. This is why I use audio books now for most all of my reading. I can hear the book and be doing other stuff at the same time. But I love the smell and feel of old wise books. Especially ones that will never be available in audio form. I still want Dem books.
We are writing new chapters every day of our own lives. This one so far this year for me is sizzling, happy, exciting, passionate, deeply rewarding, fun and creatively inspired more than ever in my life!
I have been gathering beautiful well written songs that speak to my heart to cover in my new Trés Jazz music project. One song that I am working on as a jazz arrangement is this one...
This song speaks to me... check out these lyrics:
The Book of Life
Songwriters: Gordon Sumner & Sting
Let me watch by the fire and remember my days
And it may be a trick of the firelight
But the flickering pages that trouble my sight
Is a book I'm afraid to write
It's the book of my days, it's the book of my life
And it's cut like a fruit on the blade of a knife
And it's all there to see as the section reveals
There's some sorrow in every life
If it reads like a puzzle, a wandering maze
Then I won't understand til the end of my days
I'm still forced to remember,
Remember the words of my life
There are promises broken and promises kept
Angry words that were spoken, when I should have wept
There's a chapter of secrets, and words to confess
If I lose everything that I possess
There's a chapter on loss and a ghost who won't die
There's a chapter on love where the ink's never dry
There are sentences served in a prison I built out of lies.
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
There's a chapter on fathers a chapter on sons
There are pages of conflicts that nobody won
And the battles you lost and your bitter defeat,
There's a page where we fail to meet
There are tales of good fortune that couldn't be planned
There's a chapter on gawd that I don't understand
There's a promise of Heaven and Hell but I'm damned if I see
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
Now the daylight's returning
if one sentence is true
All these pages are burning
And all that's left is you
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life.
