My bookshelves are crowded, and I sometimes think about off-loading, purging, thinking in passing “well, I’ll never read that again.” Then I wake up, slap myself briskly, and realize that in a sense my books are the architecture of the house my mind lives in. Each one...
Everyone will recognize Santa here, but I have a seven year old friend who can name all the others in this Oz illustration; we spent a happy hour not long ago discussing who was who, and how much fun it would be to be seated at that table. The piece was drawn 110...
