I spent several hours cataloguing books and scanning images today. I’ve got about 15 more books to go before I can really start to lay out the Dante catalogue and get it ready for the printer. Once again, I spent a couple of hours researching just one item for the catalogue. I don’t intend to put so much into research for what is usually a short book description. I just get caught up in what I am doing and I don’t realize how much time is passing until I’ve run out of time. Part of me wants to be more efficient with my time, and the other part of me, the part that enjoys research, wants to research everything until my questions are answered, whether or not that research is germane to the description I’m writing. I suppose I’ll learn to be more disciplined with more experience.
I received the most recent issue of Fine Books and Collections magazine in the mail over a week ago. In an effort to establish the aforementioned self-discipline, I put the magazine aside in order to focus solely on the Dante catalogue. Today, I could resist it no longer. I took an afternoon break, and read the magazine cover to cover with a couple of cups of tea from my spring tea cup.
That break was worth every minute. I was transported from my dining room to a universe inhabited by people who spend as much time as I do fascinated by red rot (p.21), thrilled about the auctioning of a 19th century comic opera “on the theme of mosquito eradication” (p.23), contemplating a thought-provoking essay on collectible art vs. collectible books (p.34), and in awe of fore-edge paintings (p.42). I was in heaven, even if I wasn’t cataloguing that Longfellow translation of Dante’s Paradiso.
See you in the stacks!