I am a summerchild completely.don´t get me wrong: there is something about every season that I absolutely enjoy: the dawning of the promising renewing in spring, the golden leaves in fall and the scent of freshly fallen snow in winter. but then there is something about all of those seasons I get rid of after some time.
not the same with summer. summer and I are walking hand in hand. he caresses my bare legs as I am wearing my floatiest dresses. he comforts me with warm winds as I walk home after a night of dancing on buckled heels. day and night switch places because with a glass of wine and a book I can spend hourd in the garden listening to the whimsical chirping sounds around.
so in summer I regularly turn into a faineant willing to just absorb every bit of sun, summer rain und soft winds possible.
thus I am often found with a bunch of books in some street café, eating brioches and drinking café au lait.
a reader just asked for my favourite pieces of lecture and as I was thinking about it I figured out that for me, in contrast to naming favourite songs, it is quite easy to be determined about that one.
to me a compelling novel is not about the plot (only) or clever puns - I want to keep something, like an applicable sageness of the straight atmosphere of a situation. so as much as I am searching for it in everything, inspiration is what makes a good book for me.
so, my favourites definitely include these qualities and and thus are really worth reading:
the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera - playing with the grown-ups by sophie dahl - the little prince by saint-exupéry - the artificial silk girl by irmgard keun
by the way: I am happy to wear the original flowers I wore at my prom - they are dry now but didn´t lose their charme.
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