Thursday |
no entiendo |
Since the age of 10, I have stopped purchasing picture books, actually, stopped being given picture books by my parents, rather. Sort of sad, but I guess it’s just one of the many things we grow out of as we age. Big picture books with few scattered words, gradually transformed into ones with more words and fewer illustrations, and eventually being replaced by words printed finely in size 10 font with no pictures.
Now, hitting the benchmark of becoming an adult, I have returned to my old habits of reading a picture book. This was given to me as a gift for Christmas,
Usually picture books are designed in such a way that children can follow the story by purely looking at the illustrations. This one is different. Not only do the pictures tell you nothing about the story itself, but the fact that the whole book is written in Spanish only adds to the frustration - the frustration of not being able to read the slim book in a matter of minutes, and the need to look every single word up in the dictionary.
It is a complete tease to receive this as a gift. But nonetheless, you have succeeded in motivating me to learn and to persevere. Thank you. |
posted by sciurine @ 9:41 PM |
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Thoughts, ...flowing slowly and gracefully, ...awakening the senses, ...keeping you up in the night, I sometimes wonder why people write. To express? To reflect? To be heard? I write, to free myself from a world of thoughts.
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