What a joy it is to listen to a writer. Sunday afternoon, in your favorite independent bookstore, a crowded sun-filled room, and hearing the words of a writer, from his/her own mouth. Listening to why he chose this topic, the back story, and then an excerpt. Reactions from the crowd. Applause.
How lucky I am, to have such a venue available to me, where I can sit quietly for 45 minutes and listen to a few writers. These are the moments when I am grateful to be alive, today, in this city of educated and interesting people.
One of my fondest memories, in my contemplative life, is a reading that Judy Collins gave many years ago in Boston. The auditorium was huge, there were a few hundred people there, and I was way in the back. She came to the podium and in her high-pitched divine voice she told us stories from her life. At the end of each story, she broke into song, in order to convey the importance of music throughout her life. It was an inspirational moment. Magic. One of those unforgettable moments, that you visit over and over again, during the course of your life. This is Art.