Skip to main content

What about to have a red book?

Madame Fortune's Cookie Jar by Ysabel de la Rosa

What about to have a red book in your life? This is how Brazilian writer Beto Pelaio's latest post title reads, and I love it. Beto has a thoroughly interesting blog at outsiderwriters. His title today captivates my ears and my inner sense of rhythm.

He is speaking of the new red book by Carl Jung. A book, which I would not recommend to many, though I understand both its value and its appeal. You can read all about it in the New York Times Magazine's excellent article on the subject, written by Sara Corbett.

What is equally as important as Jung's inner discoveries (in my opinion, of course) is the delicate twist of discovery Sr. Pelaio has given to English--a language so much more flexible than it is frequently given credit for. He makes me want to ask:

What about to have a red book?
What about to have an ice cream?
What about to have a masked ball?
What about to hold someone's hand?
What about to lie on the grass and look at the stars?

What about you?

Image copyright Ysabel de la Rosa, all rights reserved.

Comments

Que dibujo tan precioso, alegre y sereno.
El tema es fantástico, Jung y sus misterios. Creo que hace falta algo mas que Ciencia para comprender a Jung, su vida y el inconsciente...y ese algo mas es la "Razón Poética" de la que hablaba y escribía María Zambrano y Gastón Bachelard, a su manera.
Me gustan tus letras en color rojo y tu alegría.
Un beso fuerte, Tati

Popular posts from this blog

Life without Television, Part 2

I began life without television with relief, which was consistent Monday through Friday. The first few weekends, though, felt awkward, anxious, lonely. When PBS has good programming on Saturday nights, it is extraordinarily good. Father Brown, Phryne Fisher, New Tricks... Extraordinary acting, high production values, and I fantasize about the pudgy, brilliant priest just perhaps having an innocent crush on one of his special parishioners, which would be moi. 

I called a friend one Sunday. "Maybe television helped with my anxiety more than I realized," I said. She told me about her aunt who, after her husband's death, kept the television on in his "man cave" 24/7. He has been gone years now. The television goes on, everlasting, in his absence. I don't blame her. Much of my frequent and prolonged television viewing began with grief.

After my sister died, I would watch almost anything, especially late at night when sleep eluded me. I even watched Convoy with …

Our Texas, My Texas: "Memories we carry like scars and diamonds"

This post title includes a quote from Hermine Pinson's poem, "Four Sisters and the Dance." As you read, it will become clear why.

I was 7 when my father earned his Ph.D. from Duke. He then accepted a teaching position at a small private college in a rural Texas town in the 1960s. Population was 5,000, give or take a few. Our Texas roots ran deep, and we saw this return to the Lone Star State as a homecoming. So, I left the lyrical landscape of the Carolinas and the small private school where I had become nearly fluent in French. Then, I entered the hot, dry world of that small town. 

We did not yet have a place to live. Our family of five, including our infant brother, camped out in the girls' dorm for several weeks. Our furniture was stored on the university theater stage while my parents searched for a home. I was riding in the car with my dad and a member of the university administration and overheard their conversation. My father wondered where he could find help …

Thank you, Press Women!

My blog won first place in personal blog writing for 2014 in the Press Women of Texas's Communications Contest. Afterward, my blog placed second in personal blog writing nationwide in the National Federation of Press Women's Communications Contest. I can't adequately tell you what these awards mean to me, but I feel impelled to try.
From the NFPW website:
On May 6, 1937, 39 women from seven states gathered at the Chicago Women's Club to turn their vision into reality. They formed the National Federation of Presswomen (yes, then it was one word) and set forth their goals: "To provide a means of communication between woman writers nationally; make possible the expression of a common voice in matters of national interest to press women, and otherwise advance the professional standards of press women."

It was brave enough for women to found such an organization in any decade prior to 1970, but this group was founded at the height of the Great Depression. It grew to …