I’m with gratitude this morning, enjoying sitting and watching the day come to light.

Yesterday, I watched Elizabeth Strout talk about her writing, specifically her two books on Olive Kitteridge.  Book Passage brings authors right into our home.  

Strout said she’s always been interested in other people, in how they see the world.  What does it feel like to be another person?  She said novels help us with this.  We enter the life of another.  She said, “Wherever there’s a person, there’s s story.”

Her earliest friend was the physical world.  There were no  kids around where and when she grew up in Maine.  She went to NY, a place she loves, but then left to return to the light of Maine.  

I’m with the light here, especially this time of year.  I revel in it.  We are light after all.

Strout spoke of point of view and how with Olive, she gives us how different people perceive Olive with all her imperfections.  In her writing, she just records life with its imperfections.  She wrote the second book on Olive after seeing a woman in Oslo who reminded her of an older Olive.  She knew Olive was back.

I was also introduced to Dorothy Hunt yesterday.  This brings me peace.