Today I spent a few hours of my day reading. Reading always brings me a tremendous amount of joy. I re-read House of Incest by Anaïs Nin. Her work is absolutely brilliant. As I read her books, I find that I can relate to her in so many ways. I can remember being completely awestruck the first time that I read House of Incest. I had to pause several times so that I could savor each sentence and digest its meaning. Anaïs Nin possessed passion, courage and freedom. I admire her for not being afraid of expressing her vulnerabilities and most intimate thoughts. With that said, the following quote resonated within my being.
" The morning I got up to begin this book I coughed. Something was coming out of my throat: it was strangling me. I broke the thread which held it and yanked it out. I went back to bed and said: I have just spat out my heart. There is an instrument called the quena made of human bones. It owes its origin to the worship of an Indian for his mistress. When she died he made a flute out of her bones. The quena has a more penetrating more haunting sound than the ordinary flute. Those who write know the process. I thought of it as I was spitting out my heart. Only I do not wait for my love to die."
