Author: Rebecca Toh

“I think stubbornness is actually the important value. I really do. I think the people who make a difference are the ones who just refuse to be deterred, who are stubborn. They can’t be made to stop.”
— Brian Eno

I shared some book recommendations with A Library, my friend Felix’s project. It’s “a place where thinkers, makers, and entrepreneurs share the books that shaped their lives and work”.

I enjoyed being a part of Manuel Moreale’s People and Blogs series. Thanks for having me! Talking about blogging is always fun.

This podcast episode “How to Create Space in Your Life” really hit the spot. It’s the reminder I needed to continue clearing out things from my life/home/computer/head etc.

A good piece about the ebook reader Kobo’s CEO, Michael Tamblyn. He really seems like he cares.

Currently watching: Inside Brian Eno’s Studio.

I appreciate the madness in you. Yes I’d actually prefer it if you were a little mad. This means we’re the same. Although sameness means nothing. It just means we’re not alone.

Still working on my little community library project and I’m still feeling stupidly happy about everything, even though there’re about 200 more things to do than I’d imagined. I do think I was led by life to this moment. Although I can say the same thing about every moment before this, this very moment just feels more comfortable, more right, more interesting, more filled with potential, more effortless, even though there is a lot of work involved.

I’ve always loved libraries. They are a glimpse of the kind of ‘better world’ we all want to live in. That’s because by their very nature they are inclusive and welcoming. Anyone who walks through the doors of a library is reminded, just by inhaling the air of the library, just by being embraced by its atmosphere, to be a kinder and more caring person, and to forget, for a moment, the usual rules of our capitalistic society.

A library is a good place.

Since my last post a month ago, I have fallen into a new adventure — I’m building a shared library in Singapore.

It all started from this Instagram post. I found a shop space within three days of the post and now I’m waiting to confirm our design plans before starting renovations. We have 180 people on board with us as bookshelf-owners. You can read some of the updates on this crazy journey via my latest posts on Instagram.

So what’s Casual Poet Library? It’s a shared library in the heartlands of Singapore run entirely by individuals in the community. Each individual pays a small amount of money every month to be a bookshelf-owner. On each shelf, bookshelf-owners share about themselves and their book recommendations via little note cards, and tend to their shelves like they are tending to a (book) garden. The library is open to everyone and all books are for people to browse and borrow.

I went into this thinking it was about books. After all I’ve dreamed about opening a bookstore all my life. But the more I worked on the project the more I realised it’s about community, about building bridges between people, about the revitalisation of actual places and also actual hearts.

Feeling really energised and excited about this and will share more updates along the way!

Back from Japan (reluctantly).

Having a blog makes you realise how quickly time passes. Easily a month can pass by without any new entries here. But that month would feel like a blink to me.

So I did go to Japan for three weeks. I experienced moments of bliss/ecstasy there that would sound downright silly when put in words. But don’t worry, the only drugs involved were nature, rural fields, quiet neighbourhoods, long walks, silence, solitude, books…

I think I could easily become a recluse if I allowed myself to.

Even then, some of my best memories from the trip involve other people, mostly strangers. I made friends in cafes, izakayas, shops. We talked with the help of Google Translate and their kindness warmed my heart. I almost didn’t meet an unkind soul in Japan.

So that’s the thing – I enjoyed my solitude to the point of delirium, but so much joy and light and happiness were delivered straight to my heart from my interactions with other human beings.

Both things are true at the same time.

I enjoy not being found.

It’s my way of coping with an external world that is largely unknown and potentially dangerous.

‘I don’t want to be found, seen or heard from’ is a thought I constantly have. At the same time, I realise I have the need to communicate, but preferably in ways that allow me to be partially hidden (like writing in a blog that few people read).

Is this a desire for non-existence?

I don’t think so, because I do want to exist and I do want people to know I exist.

But I don’t want to be found.

Do you see the difference?

“To Anita Pollitzer

Canyon, Texas
11 September 1916

Tonight I walked into the sunset — to mail some letters — the whole sky — and there is so much of it out here — was just blazing — and grey blue clouds were rioting all through the hotness of it — and the ugly little buildings and windmills looked great against it.

But some way or other I didn’t seem to like the redness much so after I mailed the letters I walked home — and kept on walking —

The Eastern sky was all grey blue — bunches of clouds — different kinds of clouds — sticking around everywhere and the whole thing — lit up — first in one place — then in another with flashes of lightning — sometimes just sheet lightning — and sometimes sheet lightning with a sharp bright zigzag flashing across it —.

I walked out past the last house — past the last locust tree — and sat on the fence for a long time — looking — just looking at the lightning — you see there was nothing but sky and flat prairie land — land that seems more like the ocean than anything else I know — There was a wonderful moon —

Well I just sat there and had a great time all by myself — Not even many night noises — just the wind —

I wondered what you are doing —

It is absurd the way I love this country — Then when I came back — it was funny — roads just shoot across blocks anywhere — all the houses looked alike — and I almost got lost — I had to laugh at myself — I couldnt tell which house was home —

I am loving the plains more than ever it seems — and the SKY — Anita you have never seen SKY — it is wonderful —

Pat.”