RANDOM-ISM.

when i'm bored. (#13)

ooh, 13. the supposedly unlucky number. but i like it like i like all the other numbers except 9. i have a special preference for that one. :)


so anyway, enjoy this extract from Girl With A Pearl Earring by Tracy Chavelier. (a good read, i must say. this is my fourth.)




Later I asked Tanneke why Catharina had been hiding.


"Oh, van Leeuwenhock was here," she answered, chuckling. "A friend of the master's. She's afraid of him."


"Why?"


Tanneke laughed harder. "She broke his box! She was looking in it and knocked it over. You know how clumsy she is."


I thought of my mother's knife spinning across the floor. "What box?"


"He has a wooden box that you look in and - see things."


"What things?"


"All sorts of things!" Tanneke replied impatiently. She clearly did not want to talk about the box. "Young mistress broke it, and van Leeuwenhock won't see her now. That's why master won't allow her in his room unless he's there. Perhaps he thinks she'll knock over a painting!"


I discovered what the box was the next morning, the day he spoke to me about things that took me many months to understand.


When I arrived to clean the studio, the easel and chair had been moved to one side. The desk was in their place, cleared of papers and prints. On it sat a wooden box about the size of a chest for storing clothes in. A smaller box was attached to one side, with a round object protruding from it.


I did not understand what it was, but I did not dare touch it. I went about my cleaning, glancing over it at now and then as if its use would suddenly become clear to me. I cleaned the corner, then the rest of the room, dusting the box so that I hardly touched it with my cloth. I cleaned the storeroom and mopped the floor. When I was done I stood in front of the box, arms crossed, moving around to study it.


My back was to the door but I knew suddenly that he was standing there. I wasn't sure whether to turn round or wait for him to speak.


He must have made the door creak, for then I was able to turn and face him. He was leaning against the treshold, wearing a long black robe over his daily clothes. He was watching me curiously, but he did not seem anxious that I might damage his box.


"Do you want to look in it?" he asked. It was the first time he had spoken to me directly since he asked about the vegetables many weeks before.


"Yes, sir. I do," I replied without knowing what I was agreeing to. "What is it?"


"It is called a camera obscura."




now, for those who don't know, camera obscura is the "official" name for the camera (d'oh). like a scientific term or something. whatever. and those who know me would know that i have a passion for photography and art, so yeah, the passion contributes to the biased judgement of the beauty of the novel. (get it? if you don't, never mind. it doesn't sound quite right to me either.)


boredom has made me succumbed to talking to myself (and sometimes imaginary readers cos i know only a couple out there who reads my blog) on my blog about topics of mass unconcerns.


my sister's turning twelve. any gift ideas, wonderers of the virtual reality?

posted by Myz @ 6:50 PM