I am about to run off – well ride off – and snatch me some lovely produce at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market.

But I had a thought I wanted to put down. As I am packing up – albeit very slowly, alas – I find myself swinging between two options.

What to do with my books? All nine boxes of them.

Mind you, this is already the filtered version. Elly's Books 3.0. After agonizing hours months back, and then again. The local library benefited from my 'cleanse'. But. There are still those nine boxes.

It is an interesting thing that right now there is all this hoopla about the iPad. I was at the coffeeshop the other day and there were two (glorious in their nerdiness) gentlemen, who were playing with one. Or on one. Whatever. So I got a chance to – er – partake. I went straight to the library part of it, of course. The one where you have virtual bookshelves. Where you can turn pages.

And yes. It was pretty cool. In fact, I do want one, now. With that 26,000 book special or whatever that is. I want to have one so I can take it everywhere: on the plane, on the train (although I prefer to look out the window, daydreaming, on the train, thank you very much). In hotel room. On the beach?

So ok. I admit it. I am coveting the iPad.

However, the question arises. Do I do the unthinkable and take the boxes of Books – the physical ones – to the library? Do I make a list of them and then look for them in digital form? Or do I take them to storage? (which, by the way, is a bit costly in this area). The money spent on storage over time probably equals the expense on the digital purchases of the books themselves.

Ok, those are questions Plural, no doubt.

Or do I move into a place that allows me to fll it wall to wall with books?

I doubt it. I don't even know right now how permanent is the place going to be. So, still storage, even if about half of them can be displayed on bookshelves.

Maybe the solution is half and half?

The truth is: I like physicality of books. I love the convenience of the digital concept. But I also love the fact that sometimes a book will call to me from the shelf. When I open it randomly, sometimes the message is incredibly timely. Can you do that with a book on you iPad? I don't think so. Just like a digital smiley or hug is a lovely gesture and can be understood, as well as appreciated, they are but shadows of the real thing.

OK, you say, what about the ecological repercussions. Trees. That sort of thing.

True, very true. Will I buy more books on the iPad (if and when I make the purchase)? Of course. Will I buy one digitally, rather than a physical copy? Perhaps.

There is a danger, also, in the quantity and ease. Both pretend to be friends and partners or quality, where they are not. How many books out of the 26,000 will you read?

When I walk into Barnes and Noble, it is a special experience. I browse and walk with my fingers touching the spines. I sit and read for a minute to see if something grabs me. Pick me! they all say. Sometimes the most reticent one, with the dark cover which does not scream out is the one that I want, but I don't always know it right away.

Book-shopping is almost like buying a pet. Yes, I'll go online and check everything out, quite often. But when I walk in there, I may change my mind. The paper-animal may have looked great on the screen, but up close it doesn't feel or read right.

I know I am quite rare in this. Some may argue that books are fast becoming an outdated way to store and carry information. First there were stone tablets, they will say. Books are only a link in a chain and we are so evolved technologically now that – fortunately for all the trees involved – we are off into the digital space, unlimited and perfectly glossy, where you can read forever and be lost in a sea of words and images.

I can also make an argument that now that we are coming into this time, this brings exciting opportunities for music and art to become seamless with literature. Imagine a digital novel enhanced with graphics, music, animation. I can't wait and I hope to be, as a musician, at the frontier of such.

But my current dilemma is not that. It is: what to do with my old/current books. My friends and co-conspirators. My bedmates. My psychotherapists, teachers, relatives. Made from trees. Physical and sometimes quite stained and used. Black on white. Human and oh so 20th century.

Stay tuned.