Of late I have been afforded with a little extra brain space, albeit distracted by COVID and politics, but I have been able to read something substantive. I was in a total dry zone for awhile, but during the Thanksgiving break I picked up Moby Dick. I have had that book awaiting me on the shelf for quite some time. My early education never required me to read the classic – and what a loss. It is extraordinary.
I love every minute with it and its characters. I could read it in one sitting if life afforded that luxury. I embrace the language and the sanguinity it brings me. I care about the characters and want to know every precise aspect of them. Even the prescient street dweller heeds knowledge.
My love of animals is also fed, which is a treat in an of itself, with Ishmael and friends anthropomorphizing Moby’s intentions. It is all so enrapturing.
In addition to the reading, I am drinking a lot of tea these days. Something about it just sounds good. I don’t know if it makes a difference, I just find it soothing. Lemon ginger, lemon lift, orange ginger, orange spice, and Jasmine green tea are my favorites right now. Occasionally I mix in a pomegranate tea to remind me of my Armenian days.
One missive in Moby Dick really stuck my core and I hope it must have been true of Herman Melville himself. In the words of Ishmael, “…I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote.” This is my mantra, my calling, and my exact same feeling. This world offers so much to see and share as I dwell in my basement office. So many people and places are calling me. I cannot wait to return the summon.