I can't believe I never knew about Van Booy before. And he had a workshop in Beijing when I was in Beijing! Somehow, however I managed to miss him on my reading lists, I came around to finally meet him, through this beautiful story of Rebecca, Henry and George. This one book is enough for me to want to read everything else he's written and he will write.
Van Booy is a philosopher. Love is his main subject of study.
Everyone can be a philosopher on love, but he has the power to reach into your heart and twist your brain. The softest emotions, the gentlest feelings, the hardest pain and the toughest adventure in life all float around you in his beautiful manifestation of love. It's a book where you want to write down every single sentence in your notebook.
I'm sorry I have not been here for a while. I'm apologizing to my readers, to my self, and most of all, to my blog itself. I never forgot about you. I was forced to travel downhill on a side road for a little while, and then I got back on track. Now I'm moving forward again. Everything that I thought was beautiful was taken, lost, wiped, erased. But everything truly beautiful has just begun after. It's just a matter of how you define beauty. In Van Booy's story, it's a woman, a love, a city, a life, an adventure, a discovery. In mine, it's a book, a love, a movie, and a dish. So I decided to catch up with my serious cooking adventure.
My American Dad grew up in Virginia eating grits. However, My American Mom has never liked grits. Over dinner, my Dad commented on how it was almost a miracle that he was eating grits in his own house. My mom's comment was, there's so much cheese in the grits, so much flavor, of course it tastes better now. I also have to admit that this my first time cooking grits and eating grits. And it tastes just as beautiful as it looks!
