The rhythm and breath of someone reading out loud takes us to a world far away. As a child, I could spend hours pressed against the warmth of my grandmother’s body listening to her read, the rustling of her hand turning the page, watching the birds and the weather outside, transported by the intimacy of a shared side by side.
- Love this story artist Ann Hamilton tells about her grandmother. (~Artists statement, the event of a thread)
Comments powered by Disqus
  1. chenchenwrites reblogged this from beingblog
  2. corner-of-positivity reblogged this from beingblog
  3. tinker-rae reblogged this from beingblog
  4. dickviolin reblogged this from theaqtumblog
  5. marygracemcnally reblogged this from beingblog
  6. kellyrowley reblogged this from beingblog
  7. rositalagata reblogged this from theaqtumblog
  8. myfesteringcesspool reblogged this from beingblog
  9. bibliogato reblogged this from beingblog
  10. julialander reblogged this from beingblog
  11. cmw50 reblogged this from beingblog
  12. unskoolery reblogged this from beingblog
  13. amberausten reblogged this from beingblog
  14. discordharmony reblogged this from beingblog
  15. friendscallmetonks reblogged this from beingblog
  16. heyjayyay reblogged this from beingblog
  17. lapillus reblogged this from beingblog
  18. monikafrech reblogged this from beingblog
  19. juliekesti-art-by-mail reblogged this from beingblog
  20. musingonblank reblogged this from amywhipple