Confessions of a bibliophile
I love books. I'm a bibliophile. A bookaholic.
I especially love old books, for some reason unknown to me. I'll take new ones as well, but the distinct "feeling" you get with older books makes me go slightly nuts whenever I enter an antiquary.
The trouble is I keep constantly finding new interesting antiquaries and tiny bookshops. Especially ones specialised in what one could call "new age", but I don't.
I'm so in trouble. I'm running out of space for my books. They're piling up everywhere. My table holds the following pieces of literature:
- Promethea I&II by Alan Moore (not a book, I know, but still literature as far as I'm concerned)
- Chicken Qabalah by Lon Milo Duquette
- Fell, issues 1-4 by Warren Ellis
- Desolation Jones, issues 4 & 6 also by Warren Ellis
- Alchemical Imagery by Lyndy Abraham
- The Psychopathology of Everyday Life by Sigmund Freud
- The Original Account of the Teachings, Rites and Ceremonies of the Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn by Israel Regardie (I cheated a little, it's actually on my bed next to the table, where it usually resides)
That's just the table.
On the cabinet behind me (and under a wonderful Absinthe poster) await Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel by Susannah Clarke.
Other books piled in front of other books in the bookshelf waiting to be read (or finished, usually):
- Ancient Wisdom, The: Outline of Theosophical Teachings by Annie Besant
- In the Outer Court also by Annie Besant
- Egyptian Book of the Dead translated into Finnish by Jaana Toivari-Viitala
- The Big Little Book of Tarot by Rachel Pollack
- Zen by Alan W. Watts
On the table in the corner I call "kitchen":
- Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud
In my bag I also have a couple of books, you know, just in case:
- Studies in Occultism by H.P. Blavatsky
- And a book about and by Miyamoto Musashi
I am doomed.
In a good way, of course.
Haven't watched tv much, been too busy reading. What a shame. (A smiley goes here)
I especially love old books, for some reason unknown to me. I'll take new ones as well, but the distinct "feeling" you get with older books makes me go slightly nuts whenever I enter an antiquary.
The trouble is I keep constantly finding new interesting antiquaries and tiny bookshops. Especially ones specialised in what one could call "new age", but I don't.
I'm so in trouble. I'm running out of space for my books. They're piling up everywhere. My table holds the following pieces of literature:
- Promethea I&II by Alan Moore (not a book, I know, but still literature as far as I'm concerned)
- Chicken Qabalah by Lon Milo Duquette
- Fell, issues 1-4 by Warren Ellis
- Desolation Jones, issues 4 & 6 also by Warren Ellis
- Alchemical Imagery by Lyndy Abraham
- The Psychopathology of Everyday Life by Sigmund Freud
- The Original Account of the Teachings, Rites and Ceremonies of the Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn by Israel Regardie (I cheated a little, it's actually on my bed next to the table, where it usually resides)
That's just the table.
On the cabinet behind me (and under a wonderful Absinthe poster) await Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel by Susannah Clarke.
Other books piled in front of other books in the bookshelf waiting to be read (or finished, usually):
- Ancient Wisdom, The: Outline of Theosophical Teachings by Annie Besant
- In the Outer Court also by Annie Besant
- Egyptian Book of the Dead translated into Finnish by Jaana Toivari-Viitala
- The Big Little Book of Tarot by Rachel Pollack
- Zen by Alan W. Watts
On the table in the corner I call "kitchen":
- Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud
In my bag I also have a couple of books, you know, just in case:
- Studies in Occultism by H.P. Blavatsky
- And a book about and by Miyamoto Musashi
I am doomed.
In a good way, of course.
Haven't watched tv much, been too busy reading. What a shame. (A smiley goes here)