I spent a portion of yesterday seated on the gritty, cellar floor of an espresso parlour flipping through coffee scented literature and it was, indeed, lovely. The barista looked like a Jew and the books were all half off, so, thick Madeleine L'Engle novels, the Princess Bride, Anna Karenina, and a book on Monet all made their way home with me.

When, someday, I have my own studio I will have a bookshelf made of books I've read because I think that sounds beautiful. 

I once knew someone who thought he could be a writer without ever having read anything, save for the Bible verses that spread sweet suave upon the scrapes from which he was suffering. And to this day, I still don't understand that. Reading is, to me, the inspiration and solid foundation of what makes a writer. Even if you're unique, standing a head taller in a crowd of people all alike, to some extent, you will still write what you read. The parts of the Bible that are in between -- not the actual story yet, but the moves you make to make it to the next square -- have been some of the most influential parts on my spiritual run.