writers

Just got back from the Kachemak Bay Writers Conference, and my brain is stuffed full of stuff. It was three or four days worth of creativity, and each evening when I’d head out to my car, my head was spinning so fast and it was so saturated with things and stuff that I’d pass by my car… I’d just keep on walking till I’d stop & come to my senses and think to myself, hold up, I parked back that-a-way.

So for now I’ll just post a few photos I took tonight at the Loussac library. I stopped there on my way back through town to pick up a book I learned about at the conference.

I love libraries, don’t you? Always have. They’re like church to this secular girl.

When I’m taking photos I don’t often look around at other people because I just assume they aren’t “photography people” and they won’t understand why I’m snapping photos left & right of something they take for granted. While I was snapping this photo, I sort of took note of someone off to my left but I didn’t expect to capture him. He’s looking at me like, bitch, I better not be in that shot.

Sorry dude, you’re totally in my shot.

Three guesses who this is… And no, it’s not Lewis Carroll, which is always who I think of when I see the top hat. He totally needs some bunny ears, come Halloween, don’t you think? Maybe a pocket watch in his hand?

It’s William H. Seward, of Seward’s Folly fame, the patron saint of our state, if ever we had one.

I love the Loussac, even if it has been sad and outdated as of late. They’re going to do a major renovation soon and are asking the public for its input so recently I sat down & replied to their online survey. I spent at least an hour on it. Turns out, I have alot to say about libraries. It asked my favorite libraries: the downtown library in downtown Seattle and the new-ish library in Homer, Alaska.

Whenever I’m on this floor of the Loussac, I think about a co-worker who told me how she & her husband relocated back to Anchorage after law school and spent their days here studying for the bar, a Herculean task. The one rule is you can’t fall asleep in the Loussac. I suppose this rule is to give them an excuse to chase the homeless out and keep them from chasing the other patrons away? Her husband unfortunately did fall asleep at his table and he was promptly booted from the library, a story they still tell today. She’s now the solicitor general and he’s a federal judge. So the next time you judge, just think about this: everyone needs a little nap from time to time.

Only bus. Only bus.

The view from The Stairs of Death. At least that’s what my friend Angie and I call them. In wintertime, they test your resolve in the belief that libraries matter. Ice and snow team up to threaten to toss you down to the bottom of the stairs in spite of the awning overhead.

I’ll leave you with this, the title and the author of the book that I headed straight to the library to borrow: A Trail Through Leaves by Hannah Hinchman.  She appears to be a master at combining the visual with the words.

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