A Book Arrives

Greetings,

A copy of my book arrived on Thanksgiving from the printing company in the UK and I brought the box home. It was late so I put it on the dining room table. I was a little tired and feeling nervous anticipation to open it so, I thought, "Ok, tomorrow morning after feeding the sparrows, lighting incense, making coffee and rolling a smoke in the cold clear light of dawn I will open it."

It's a little difficult to adequately express my feelings when my book slid out of the box. I stared at the cover remembering the young Chinese girl at her nursery school near Yang-En the day I went there to meet and play with the kids. How she and others ran after me as I left and the stern faced matron closed the gate.

How I turned and made an image of her. How, only later while processing the image, did I see the young boy behind her making the peace sign and smiling. How this juxtaposition of her deep eyed wonder and inquisitiveness was matched by his alert, playful, smiling impish laughing eyes. And I knew it would look fine on my book so I sent it along with the manuscript. She's returned to me.

So, I opened it up and pressed front and back covers flat, like you're supposed to do when opening a new book for the first time. Then I edged through sections caressing them flat, then I fanned the pages like free open bird wings and smiled.

If you need a read, welcome.

Peace.