There was an explosive boom downstairs earlier tonight. A bookcase Ive had since I was a teenager collapsed, and - worst of all - it was the home of my vast collection of graphic novels Ive accumulated over the last four decades. The majority were spared but, on the bottom section of the bookcase, I had a huge assortment of graphic art reference works and classic comic reprints. They were apparently saturated in their spines and covers, and I can never replace them. I am so conflicted because I dont like the idea that my things own me, and I dont like the way it hurts to see them destroyed against my will. I want to own my things, and regard them as inconsequential, but some of these items -- rare reprints of old DICK TRACY comics from the 1930s, and encyclopedic reference books about classic comics from my parents childhood, and the quirky things I grew up with -- well, even many libraries dont own them, and it made me proud over the years that I did. So, my heart is broken because part of me is upset over the fact that I let this loss upset me, and another part is torn up because these things cant be replaced. I want this chapter of my life over with. I dont like feeling like this. I have now lost so many things Ive had for so, so long -- and the one thing that bothers me the most thats gone is a little sight-seeing book I purchased in Jerusalem at the Olive Tree Hotel; it was small enough to fit in my pocket, it was affixed to a coil, and had lovely pictures and descriptions of the places I visited while there in 2009 and 2010. I kept it on display on my living room bookshelf before we moved, and I dont even know how it ended up in the basement. My collection of Bibles and Bible translations, commentaries, etc., was upstairs and safe, but its these little things that are hitting me right in the heart. I am so sad right now...
Posted on: Fri, 12 Dec 2014 04:09:18 +0000
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