People say you should write the book you want to read.
The book I want to read is so weird.
I want to read a big old scrapbook found in the dusty attic of an eccentric and passionate naturalist.
It contains a collection of essays, notes, sketches, poems, prayers, paintings and actual preserved nature specimens.
The contents of this book are loosely organized by the microseasons—small 5-day increments of time around a calendar year. Pages are filled with materials inspired and gathered by years and years of walking along local forest trails.
It's a book about the practice of looking for something to love and to be curious about on any ordinary day.
So I guess I’m that eccentric nature nerd author of this book I want to read. And this Curiosity Cabinet of a project is what I'm slowly working on now.
It’s good to have big goals, but I think it’s equally good to have some tiny goals. How satisfying it is to do things that are rather easily achieved, yet still accrete over time— things that are a pleasure to return to over and over again.
This year I’ve been taking walks along familiar trails, pressing plant specimens, making photos, writing, and creating a lot of relaxed art in my strange and groovy Attic Book.
The process of making this very personal artifact is infused with joy.
And it helps to steady me in these strange times we live in.
I hope it might inspire you to unfold in your own creative ways, as well.
I dwell in the dew and in the air and in all greenness.
Tell us your name again
lest we forget.
— Hildegard of Bingen
I would love to read this weird attic book you’re making. It sounds marvelous! I really appreciate this post because I’ve been vacillating all day over what project to tackle next. I need to the weird one that I want to read.
A beautiful page in a book that I hope will be available someday (and whose proceeds will support a comfortable retirement for you as well, while we’re dreaming!)
The deep red Jack in the Pulpit blew my socks off! It’s my new quest; do you think it’s a mutant?