Rummaging around in quirky second-hand stores or garage sale was part of the fun and brings back some pleasant memories from childhood. My father is an antique collector, and I grew up exploring with him people’s sheds, barns, back rooms and cellars for lost treasures. Often he brought stuff home that looked beyond repair – with lots of patience he would restore it to something amazing.
Each book I have carries its own story. Often when I look through the pages, I wonder about the person to whom the book once belonged. I wonder if they are still alive and what kind of life they have lived. Reading through the book, I sometimes feel some kind of connection with the owner or the author…or maybe I imagine it.