Truth: If you're deep inside a story world, you tend to see the story in a lot of places.
Which means that I get randomly reminded of evening gloves and pinecones and Monty Overbove's popcorn box shoulders in the strangest of situations. Dinners out, grocery shopping, or a trip to the doctor might all summon something from the books. Spying a certain orange, too -- the orange of this blog, in fact -- can immediately pull me into the Wilfairverse.
Of course, I'm constantly reminded of other stories and people I know and places I've been, to the point of driving my loved ones batty. We can be hiking through some random canyon I've never seen and I'll cite another far-off canyon that could be its distant cousin. Or I'll notice a distinctive tree and say "do you remember that other tree we saw, by the cabin, that looked exactly like this one...?"
Call it similar concepts occupying two different spaces.
But I've come to embrace this sometimes annoying quirk. And truly, I can look at something and appreciate it for what it is, not the thing I already know. Not everything in this world must be paired up in my "Object A Reminds Me of Object B" brain folder. Organizing stuff is my bag, but, please: There must be sensible limits.
Do you ever do this?
And, yes, book connections were definitely made when I came across this photo of players from the Chalk Repertory Theatre performing inside the Natural History Museum here in LA. The soft hues, the museum diorama, the vintage clothing, and the sweet twosome all pulled me right back into Wilfair.
cr: Natural History Museum/Chalk Repertory Theatre