It's an
Overcast
Winter Morning
Wrapped Books
Unwrapped Books
The White Library
The Cuban-born artist Wilfredo Prieto designed and created the White Library. This is not your average library. It has books: 6000 of them, in different formats or sizes: 10. What makes this library different and unique is not its colour: White. Nor its size: Small. Nor the quality of its books: fantastic quality paper, flawless binding. What makes the place exceptional is that you can't find a single letter (a, b, c, ç, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, l, m, n, ñ, o, p, q, r, s, t, u,v, w, x, y, z) in the entire library. You want to read something and you can't. You search inside each book, page by page, trying to find a letter, a word, a sentence (some people try really hard) and you find nothing. Can we still call this place a Library? The urge to read becomes strong: "I want to read and I can't??'' Where have all the letters gone? Why are all books blank? I hear the artist's voice: D-o-n-'-t-t-a-k-e-a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g-f-o-r-g-r-a-n-t-e-d.D-o-n-'-t-b-e-n-a-i-v-e.Y-o-u-o-w-n-t-h-e-w-o-r-d-s.
The White Bookshop
The White Library (la Biblioteca Blanca) came to my mind when I went inside a local bookshop that was closing down. Big red signs 'everything has to go', 'up to 70% discounts' 'closing-down sale' attracted many passers-by like me; I could not resist the urge to have a look. Not many books left for sale; the bookshop was practically empty except for the white helves that looked like the shop's skeleton. It was so white that I thought about the White Library of Wilfredo Prieto.
I bought two books. When I arrived home I gave them to Sandy; she loves sinking her claws into my books. It has become my personal footprint: her claws on paper are an indelible mark that no one can replicate (it is like human fingerprints: unique); in this way I can recognize all my books, no matter where I take them, who I lend them to or where I leave them behind. I need to be careful with the books I borrow from the Library because she sinks her claws on them too, despite my objections. My complaints always fall on deaf hears as far as Sandy is concerned. She pretends not to understand me but she does. No one has told me anything at the Library so I assume they haven't noticed. I can't help smiling when I come across a book with her marks when I am browsing. I know I borrowed that book. It carries her (and mine) footprint.
As soon as Sandy finished with the books she rushed to the computer and typed: take me to the bookshop NOW with the camera. I must document this for posterity. I said NOW and I said with the CAMERA. Sandy.
Why I taught a stupid and arrogant cat to type defies belief but you know me, I do what I am told (most of the time) otherwise I pay for it in cleaning products, later.
We took many photos of empty shelves which are not inspiring nor uplifting.
At the front they still had some books left for sale. I found a couple I liked, heavily discounted and when I was paying for them I had this conversation with the shop assistant; he looked tired and frustrated:
- 'You look tired'.
- 'I am. It is very hard to close a bookshop down'.
- It must be. It is kind of sad too'.
He gave me a piercing look: 'Sad? I'll tell you what is sad: this was a really good business, we made lots of money in this shop and now, look, we are closing down like many business in town! that's sad.
I don't think he was much of a book lover. He sold books to make a living, books, shoes, towels ...
Sandy will now take care of the post. Spanish practice time. Take care, until next time.
Matilda ♥
