Book Review: Steal Like An Artist

Steal this book. No not that book. This one.

Well, you should probably buy a copy. Just because I stole the copy I am currently reading doesn’t mean you should follow me down this felonious path. In all honesty, I will be giving Anne back her copy, although it is totally her fault I stole it. When you give someone the keys to your house and then leave a book called Steal Like An Artist on your coffee table, what do you expect that person to do? Feed your dogs or something?

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On Ghosts, Coffee Shops and Ruts

I am spending my afternoon in a coffee chop nearly 30 miles from my house.  Several things had to line up just so to bring me here.

First and foremost, I skipped out on my plans for the morning. I was supposed to go to a morning prayer retreat. Well, I say “supposed” but what I really mean was planned. I didn’t have to register or pay. A few people were expecting to see me, but only because I told them I would be there. The alarm went off this morning – the only morning in two weeks when I can sleep in – and I decided I needed a “me day.” And more sleep.

The second thing is that I have been feeling restless lately. I know myself well enough to know this feeling creeps up on me, often get this way in the spring and fall. Something about the equinox makes me want to hit the road, get away, be someone else, be in a new place. Migrate. I have a theory I evolved from Canada Geese. Adding to that restlessness is my ghosts. My ghosts have been active lately. This too happens occasionally, but not as regularly. I find myself thinking of people I have not thought of for years. Distant relatives, deceased family members, long-lost friends, old loves, that weird guy in college.

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