I always had many books since childhood and have always been a great reader.
At my parents’ house there is a library of books transships: Well of course they are not only mine, also my family. There are also some old encyclopedias that today do not even know what to have but once were going great. Now that I live on my own I’m trying to create me my library in my own home.
However, what I meant is that books are important to me. Physically I mean: I just need to see them lined up on the shelves there, in all their splendor of colorful covers.
So even when I travel souvenirs that I bring home often they coincide with books. In New York, for example, I went to visit the Public Library, I stopped as usual at the bookshop (I can not go into a bookshop when I see one) and I said to myself that I could not go home without a book there .
I browsed many, I would have wanted to buy a large number, but in the end to limit expenditure and weight in case I chose one.
It’s called New York Sketchbook and I was drawn to his illustrations. Says New York and its neighborhoods: a little using the words – especially in the initial introductory – but then lets talk about the illustrations that are split realistic corners of New York.
Strange because I have many books: although I really like my favorite books filled with words because those meet my reading method, from cover to cover, the ones that make me delve into the stories, seeing the pages read increase day after day while those who left before the end of the book are less and less.
But with New York Sketchbook there is no rush or yearning to read: I sit on the couch, I wear comfortable and convenient open New York. When I do I seem to teleport back there, on the streets who breathe smoke from manholes, suspended over the Hudson River held on only by the strings and tie the Brooklyn Bridge, or to breathe the smells of China Town and are confused by his signs in Chinese.
It ‘a nice feeling to know that when I miss New York can take refuge among the illustrations in watercolor and those captions in italics.
Again pieces of paper that make traveling.
The magic of books.