Having grown up in LA, there are many instances where I find myself totally distracted and caught up in a childhood flashback. Trying to squeeze out and recall every smell, color texture of a memory can leave me zoned for minutes. Last weekend at the Farmer's Market, I caught the Frances Howard Goldwyn Hollywood Public Library out of the corner of my eye and a chill came over me and crisped me to the core. It was 75 degrees outside and my body was telling me I needed a sweater immediately. Odd, Right?
Intent on figuring out why my body was reacting in this way, I walked to the building and was immediately charged with sensory memories.
The light streaming into the massive glass facade, reminded me how I used to sprawl out like a rag doll, book-in-hands on the berber floor. Strategically stationing myself in one of the rectangular pockets of glowing carpet where the harsh direct sunlight could sting me with heat, I would welcome the sweat beads that rose from my face. I remember that particular library was always at a temperature below 60 and I was always dressed in shorts and tank, ill-prepared.
That library is pretty magical, if you ever just want to take a nap with a book.... find one of those carpeted rectangles... it's a dream!
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