I am independently happy. My horizons have been stretched around the world and to nearly every state in the US. I am comfortable enough to take months off from work at a time. Work is a pleasure that I continually strive to perfect. I love what I do. I live in a wonderful city (Oakland, CA).
This is worlds away from the impoverished, gang-ridden streets where reading a book or going to the library was an invitation to a beating. Yes, beating from the gangs and beating from parents who saw no value in anything that came from books.
Libraries, books and a mother, who took the time to read to her young son, even while she worked two low-wage jobs to support her family as a single mother, are directly responsible for my liberation from the anguish of a cloistered mind. Sometimes I wonder if “no brains, no pain” might not be an easier way to live but then I experience the joy and wonder of interacting with my peers and my community on a level only granted to those who can see beyond the neighborhood block, and I know better.
Today I became seriously involved with my local Friends of the Library because our City Council is considering reducing library open hours to help alleviate an 83 million dollar deficit. About 30 of us came together to strategize and organize a plan to demonstrate community support for our libraries. We also realized that as a community of volunteers we have to be willing to step up and do our part to ensure that our libraries are supported in such a way that they can not only remain open, but enhance their services.
What is your library story? How has access to a library changed your life? I know that once I can get half of our City Council to tell us their library stories, closing libraries is off the table.
I have some reading, perception and visual challenges. I am very far cited and did not get glasses till I was in high school. My mom though it bull shit that I needed glasses. I did great - really great with all the eye tests. I kicked butt on those eye wall charts. >>> They tested my reading when I was a sophomore in high school. I could not read. What they said was that I was reading at a third grade level. They had just opened a special reading class. Special books with tests at the end of each story. Great stories - by the way. And reading machines - to teach us "eye scan". It was amazing. Most of my recreational reading was at my friend Derry's. His family was from Bornmith. Pat, or Mr. O'Donovan had his motor sports publications shipped over several times a year. Motor Sports as practices in europe and the UK. It was influential... to say the least. It also effected my spelling... but that took me years to suss out. >>> I enjoyed reading. But there became a both volume and time limit on my abilities. After some unknown amount of time, or some number of pounds of information - I would just nose over. It is so disrespectful to find one self nosed over, face down in some book.... drooling. But I kept at it. And always the big fats ones with lots of content. Big wonderful histories with people who did real things. The problem was it could take months to finish. If I finished. It was normal that I'd get so far... and then just give up. >>> At some point I wondered into a section at the local library. That was the Redwood city main. There were shelves of light brown boxes. I asked what they were. Books for the blind. They required a special machine to listen. And there was some sort of qualifying process... but said the lady with twinkle in her eye. We have a section of booked on cassette. It was as if the walls of my world had their supports kicked away, they descended to the ground noiselessly and there were green fields and paths never dreamed of beyond the dust and mist. I got a cost effective portable tape player and a battery recharging kit. I became a heavy consumer, and could and did place orders for new books. >>> At about his same time I also discovered the research desk. On desk at work I had an open pad. As the day and we progressed I'd write down stuff that struck me curious. It could have been some bit - a pert of a conversation that did not sit right. I fear either I or the other party had our facts wrong. Or just some confusion that struck me. Or I'm reading a history... and all this exciting stuff is happening... yeah well. It's not like the rest of the world was held in stases. What else was going on. And on and on. I'd attempt to consolidate my questions... and be sent into the stacks by Mrs. Alidif. It would not be uncommon for me to be sitting on the floor with two stacks of books next to me... three open in my lap and a note pad on the floor. Mrs Alidif was also the first to tell. and show me of internet research. >>> Just because there is the internet, there is still required a library. One of the best jobs the library does is teach how to form and sculpt a question. How a question is formed, determines how quenching the answer can be. And we always want the satisfied feeling. It also stimulates the hunger. So that the next question is formed with yet more eloquence - to derive yet greater satisfaction.
There are to my mind three basic driving forces: eating, fucking, and discovering. It's best if we don't eat our children, or fuck our institution and kill discovery.
Stephn J. Lewis Advertising Art & Creative Director
2 comments:
I am independently happy. My horizons have been stretched around the world and to nearly every state in the US. I am comfortable enough to take months off from work at a time. Work is a pleasure that I continually strive to perfect. I love what I do. I live in a wonderful city (Oakland, CA).
This is worlds away from the impoverished, gang-ridden streets where reading a book or going to the library was an invitation to a beating. Yes, beating from the gangs and beating from parents who saw no value in anything that came from books.
Libraries, books and a mother, who took the time to read to her young son, even while she worked two low-wage jobs to support her family as a single mother, are directly responsible for my liberation from the anguish of a cloistered mind. Sometimes I wonder if “no brains, no pain” might not be an easier way to live but then I experience the joy and wonder of interacting with my peers and my community on a level only granted to those who can see beyond the neighborhood block, and I know better.
Today I became seriously involved with my local Friends of the Library because our City Council is considering reducing library open hours to help alleviate an 83 million dollar deficit. About 30 of us came together to strategize and organize a plan to demonstrate community support for our libraries. We also realized that as a community of volunteers we have to be willing to step up and do our part to ensure that our libraries are supported in such a way that they can not only remain open, but enhance their services.
What is your library story? How has access to a library changed your life? I know that once I can get half of our City Council to tell us their library stories, closing libraries is off the table.
I have some
reading, perception
and visual challenges. I am
very far cited and did not get
glasses till I was in high school.
My mom though it bull shit that I
needed glasses. I did great - really great
with all the eye tests. I kicked butt on those
eye wall charts. >>> They tested my reading when
I was a sophomore in high school. I could not read.
What they said was that I was reading at a third
grade level. They had just opened a special reading
class. Special books with tests at the end of each
story. Great stories - by the way. And reading
machines - to teach us "eye scan". It was amazing.
Most of my recreational reading was at my friend
Derry's. His family was from Bornmith. Pat, or
Mr. O'Donovan had his motor sports publications
shipped over several times a year. Motor Sports as
practices in europe and the UK. It was influential... to
say the least. It also effected my spelling... but that took
me years to suss out. >>> I enjoyed reading. But there became
a both volume and time limit on my abilities. After some unknown
amount of time, or some number of pounds of information - I would
just nose over. It is so disrespectful to find one self nosed over, face
down in some book.... drooling. But I kept at it. And always the big
fats ones with lots of content. Big wonderful histories with people
who did real things. The problem was it could take months to
finish. If I finished. It was normal that I'd get so far... and then
just give up. >>> At some point I wondered into a section at
the local library. That was the Redwood city main. There
were shelves of light brown boxes. I asked what they were.
Books for the blind. They required a special machine to listen.
And there was some sort of qualifying process... but said the
lady with twinkle in her eye. We have a section of booked on
cassette. It was as if the walls of my world had their supports
kicked away, they descended to the ground noiselessly
and there were green fields and paths never dreamed
of beyond the dust and mist. I got a cost effective
portable tape player and a battery recharging kit.
I became a heavy consumer, and could and did place
orders for new books. >>> At about his same time I also
discovered the research desk. On desk at work I had an open
pad. As the day and we progressed I'd write down stuff that struck
me curious. It could have been some bit - a pert of a conversation that
did not sit right. I fear either I or the other party had our facts
wrong.
Or just some confusion that struck me. Or I'm reading a history... and
all this exciting stuff is happening... yeah well. It's not like the
rest of
the world was held in stases. What else was going on. And on and on.
I'd attempt to consolidate my questions... and be sent into the stacks
by Mrs. Alidif. It would not be uncommon for me to be sitting on the
floor with two stacks of books next to me... three open in my lap
and a note pad on the floor. Mrs Alidif was also the first to tell.
and show me of internet research. >>> Just because there is
the internet, there is still required a library. One of the best
jobs the library does is teach how to form and sculpt a
question. How a question is formed, determines how
quenching the answer can be. And we always want
the satisfied feeling. It also stimulates the hunger.
So that the next question is formed with yet more
eloquence - to derive yet greater satisfaction.
There are to my mind three basic driving
forces: eating, fucking, and discovering.
It's best if we don't eat our children, or
fuck our institution and kill discovery.
Stephn J. Lewis
Advertising Art & Creative Director
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