This is not so much a book as a trip around Kalman’s mind, and what a beautiful place to be that is. Maira Kalman is an American artist but she’s anything but pretentious. She’s more like the eccentric great aunt you see at someone’s funeral and wish you knew better, ‘cause she seems like a lot of fun. She takes photos of the backs of strangers in the streets and always buys a ball of string when she goes on a trip. She is curious about humanity, everyone from philosophers to the woman who bakes the bread in her hotel. She likes to paint fruit platters and sofas discarded on the street. She knows she doesn’t have all the answers but is willing to speculate, and her speculations never fail to fascinate. I keep a copy of this book beside my bed and dive into it now and then when in need of solace and sustenance. Beautiful, original and exceptional.
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