Ray Civello's library
Love this - the section in the Globe that shows you the favourite room of a person they have named an important Torontonian. Ray Civello is a hairdresser to the stars, I guess, and this is what he calls his library.
Notice something missing? Sigh. Oh, and those bookshelves - yes, he calls them bookshelves - are oak, original to the house, but he painted them white to better showcase his collection of ... things. And his seventeen books.
Sigh.
Today I wanted to go to the matinee of Soulpepper's Spoon River Anthology, which has had rave reviews, but it's sold out. So I will work instead. Tonight's treat - my neighbour Monique's Francophone dinner, her gathering of French-speaking Anglophones who eat and drink and jabber for hours in French - always fascinating, always delicious, and right next door. Quelle chance!
As a point of comparison, I'd like to show you one of the favourite rooms of an obscure Toronto writer and teacher: the library, with unpainted Ikea bookshelves, of my humble self.
This is in the spare bedroom upstairs, aka Bruce's Room, because the living room is already drowning in books. I just took two back to the library: 100 essays I don't have time to write, by playwright Sarah Ruhl, and Safekeeping: Some stories from a life, by Abigail Thomas, both thoughtful, well-written, and of course TRUE. And picked up two memoirs I'd ordered which just came in: If only you people could follow directions, by Jessica Nelson, and Time was soft there: A Paris sojourn at Shakespeare and Co., by Jeremy Mercer. I don't read all the books here from cover to cover - sometimes just a bit is enough. But to me, there's nothing more thrilling than opening a book I've been wanting to read. And it's been that way since I was about five.
Quelle chance.
One more library: in Lauren Bacall's apartment at the Dakota in New York. The second room they show has books, a fireplace, a comfy sofa and a view. A mere 26 million and it could be yours.
Notice something missing? Sigh. Oh, and those bookshelves - yes, he calls them bookshelves - are oak, original to the house, but he painted them white to better showcase his collection of ... things. And his seventeen books.Sigh.
Today I wanted to go to the matinee of Soulpepper's Spoon River Anthology, which has had rave reviews, but it's sold out. So I will work instead. Tonight's treat - my neighbour Monique's Francophone dinner, her gathering of French-speaking Anglophones who eat and drink and jabber for hours in French - always fascinating, always delicious, and right next door. Quelle chance!
As a point of comparison, I'd like to show you one of the favourite rooms of an obscure Toronto writer and teacher: the library, with unpainted Ikea bookshelves, of my humble self.
This is in the spare bedroom upstairs, aka Bruce's Room, because the living room is already drowning in books. I just took two back to the library: 100 essays I don't have time to write, by playwright Sarah Ruhl, and Safekeeping: Some stories from a life, by Abigail Thomas, both thoughtful, well-written, and of course TRUE. And picked up two memoirs I'd ordered which just came in: If only you people could follow directions, by Jessica Nelson, and Time was soft there: A Paris sojourn at Shakespeare and Co., by Jeremy Mercer. I don't read all the books here from cover to cover - sometimes just a bit is enough. But to me, there's nothing more thrilling than opening a book I've been wanting to read. And it's been that way since I was about five.Quelle chance.
One more library: in Lauren Bacall's apartment at the Dakota in New York. The second room they show has books, a fireplace, a comfy sofa and a view. A mere 26 million and it could be yours.
http://www.warburgrealty.com/property/136890820141114P.S. Just checked my bank account online - and there's a surprise $183.99 from Access Copyright, that collects copying revenue for writers. Don't let anyone tell you that writing doesn't pay. Woo hoo!
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