The "Feeling" of Literacy

Okay, I've decided to be brave and post my freewrite from last night's class. My hope is that someone will offer suggestions for incorporating these thoughts into my visual essay project:

I think of my grandmother. She's in her chair with newspapers, magazines, Maeve Binchy, Truman Capote, Steinbeck fluttered all around her. Light streams in from the window to alight her in a glow.
I think of the public library, the rush and excitement of the wonder: What world will I get to enter into today?
I smell the new book and feel the first bend in the spine. These books were mine-not the library's.
I remember books and stories that made me laugh, cry, think, and ponder.
I feel protective of my mom as I read Gone with the Wind to her at night. She'd fall asleep, but I'd continue reading.
I remember the exhilaration of knowing all the words to something: the movie Grease or "Take Me Home Country Roads."
I feel connection with my mom and friends (Luanne/ Joy) as we discuss our favorite or current books. The gift of allowing someone else into that book's world..."Did you get to the part where...?"
Writing a paper I feel proud of and being willing to share those words with others. Books/reading/writing is the one area of my life in which I feel smart.
Books comfort me when I'm sick, send me to sleep at night through my iPod, and challenge the way I think (on a good day).
I remember the circle--reading to my grandmother as she died. I read the Bible to her (to calm her) and Circle of Friends (to remind her of home). Although I talked with her often in those days, books allowed me to say some of the things I couldn't. I know exactly what line I was reading as she died. The last voice she heard was mine, reading from her favorite book.