I have read this chapter over and over. Each time I find something new and beautiful in the words. This is like words used to paint flowing pictures in your mind. This is not something you devour in one sitting. This is something you savour slowly so get the entire effect it is meant to create.
I am thinking a chapter every one or two days. I love these words, and have never encountered anything written like this. I have read a lot of books and I have never encountered a book that makes me think as much as this one. My thoughts flow from one thing, onto another, then to another. Thoughts on sunflowers flowed to thoughts of my grandmother's kitchen.
I recently read blog post on whether writing is a form of art. This book, in my my opinion, definitely falls into the category of art.
...Tears that turned into opals
reaching the mist by falling out of his eyes.
If he was angry, fire opals
On this day they were blue opals...