People disappear when they die. Their voices, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living mempry of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continut to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humour, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.
--Diane Setterfield
Monday, March 23, 2009
We made it to Washington
I just typed a whol big post and it got lost... now I'm frusterated and I'll post again but now right now.
I didn't even know you had actually managed to meet up with Devanie until I saw something about it on her blog. I'm happy. Mike is on his way home from Utah right now. He went to her house for a couple of hours. Everyone gets to see my sister but me. :(
3 comments:
hope your trip went well. There goes trying to visit you in TX, though we werent very good at that anyway. Sorry babe.
Yay! We'll have to get together
I didn't even know you had actually managed to meet up with Devanie until I saw something about it on her blog. I'm happy. Mike is on his way home from Utah right now. He went to her house for a couple of hours. Everyone gets to see my sister but me. :(
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