reading Henry & June

It's not enough that people think I resemble Anais Nin, either because they saw the movie (I didn't) or because they've seen photos of Anais and read her books--mostly journals. I also find resemblances between us, some making me smile, and others making me want to weep.

"I might be down in the dumps a hundred times, but each time I would clamber out again to good coffee on a lacquered tray beside an open fire. Each time I would clamber out to silk stockings and perfume. Luxury is not a necessity to me, but beautiful and good things are."

I read part of her journals before, in Romanian, but not this version, which has been with me for a while, yet only opened briefly last year. Any book feels better in its original language if you can do it--not going to work for my Japanese books. It also feels better in my reading armchair. I've set it last year for that specific function and realised about a month ago that I didn't use it once. Thank God that my love sat down there; something about him reading seemed familiar to my mind. It took days to understand why: I had pictured myself there, enjoying beautiful and good things. Image found here.