Full and happy

Los Angeleno by birth, Northwesterner by choice, Second-hander by nature. Librarian, housebound chef, father, and lowly subject ruled over by the needs and whims of a very old house.
Partial to Mexican, Italian and Vietnamese cookery but will eat damn near anything. Collector of many strange things..the result is chaos and anarchy and a very pleasant place to live.
There is pleasure in accumulation, not just "collecting": music, books and film, in all their multi-formated glory. Outsider artists and those kinds of prints you would recognize if you took liberal studies classes in college. Cooking implements and gadgets for recipes still untried or those ventured. Glasses for most types of libations. Flowers in the garden, herbs in the pot.
It's a life of the senses and a good home life reflects that. Walking helps take in all the rest. Requires no special equipment, opens up the pores, brightens the taste buds, clears the decks for further adventures, puts on the miles, widens the eyes and helps fuel the imagination.

Live boldly, play graciously and love with all your heart knowing that true love comes only once or twice in this lifetime. Speaking of which..donde estas, Empress of my Heart?


"Lack imagination and miss the better story" Yann Martel

"Life is a great adventure and I want to say to you, accept it in such spirit. I want to see you face it ready to do the best that lies in you to win out. To go down without complaining and abiding by the result....the worst of all fears is the fear of living." Theodore Roosevelt, Jr.

"Not I - not anyone else, can travel that road for you
You must travel it for yourself" Walt Whitman

And above all, friends should possess the rare gift of sitting. They should be able, no, eager, to sit for hours-three, four, six-over a meal of soup and wine and cheese, as well as one of twenty fabulous courses.

Then, with good friends of such attributes, and good food on the board, and good wine in the pitcher, we may well ask,

When shall we live if not now?

-From Serve it Forth,
M.F.K. Fisher

Saturday, September 5, 2009

An arts festival of my own

Once again a Labor Day weekend comes and while it hasn't gone anywhere yet I realize that I'm not going anywhere either. Once again work dominates my "holiday" weekend: I have a bedroom that needs painting, which I shouldn't feel bad about since I've been living in this house over eleven years and haven't painted it yet. I know that I have a lot of loose ends that need to be wrapped up in order to hit the BIG project next week, and that's to strip out the bathroom. I see plenty of possible issues coming out of that so I don't want to say that it's "just a painting project". The sink needs replacing, the coving needs to be replaced with a hemlock trim and maybe, just maybe, I might go whole hog and replace that awful linoleum with a nice tile job on the floor.

I may be off but my work ethic has been strong and has pretty much followed the same pattern every day: up by eight, pour a pot of coffee into my system and then check out the things to do list for the day. I tend to goof a bit here and there, run errands and second hand but generally I work straight until six. That's when the whistle blows and the "internal boss" allows for a cooking, a bit of wine and when, the kitchen is all wrapped up and secure, for a movie, maybe two.

Yeah, all work and no play makes Jack, or at least Accumulate Man, a dull boy, so this weekend I decided to make it a point to knock off early and start supper at five. Spin some vinyl, get in a couple or three movies a day. I may not be cruising some nifty art exhibits but I will be painting rooms in the inside of my house. I might not be able to grab of bite off of some Seattle's tastier food stalls, but yesterday I made a mighty fine vegetable and polish sausage frittata for lunch and mighty grand pasta bake for supper. We have to look at these things as, well, part and parcel of the whole "labor" day experience.

The Kitsap Stree Movie Festival began yesterday, too, with a "screening" of the Russian epic 1612. Followed up that bit of joy with yet another "epic", Hellboy II The Golden Army. Nice to finally see the big guy again, as the local video house kept coming up with nada for me as far as a rental was concerned. Sometimes you just have to go out and buy these things. Yeah, as far as buying films, wow, thank goodness I'm still into VHS. What a haul lately. Lots of still sealed films, like Yojimbo and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance and Ryan's Daughter. Found a nine volume Nostalgia Merchant set of Laurel and Hardy shorts, a clean copy of The Seven Samurai amongst others. In recent days some thirty odd films have come into the house, all ready to be viewed.

But a good arts festival includes music, too. That part I do miss the most about Bumbershoot. I have to admit that it was my chief musical influence there for awhile, as it introduced many new bands and acts into my life that I wouldn't have able to catch otherwise. But since I had my duties to attend to here I pumped a bit of cash into vinyl instead and found some tasty treats to sit and listen to, for instance, some still in their wrapper recordings of Charlie Poole and North Carolina Ramblers. In the same stack I found, oh, let's see, some Doc and Merle Watson, a nice old timey Cajun fiddle piece, some Flatt and Scruggs with Bill Monroe, some clean eighties stuff, a bit of soul, a bit of "at the hop" oldies and ton of Celtic.

Sure, I may not be listening to the cutting edge of current music or be grooving on the best of World Beat or all that, but I won't have to deal with stinky neo-hippy types sitting down next me or have wild street irchins dipping their chopsticks into my brown rice with peanut sauce. The idea not jostling with the crowds on this wet day or seeing all that trash they generate or having to take the long way home via the ferry late at night is good enough reason for me to be home today. I have junk enough to deal with on my own around here.

So, my own personal arts festival is off to a good start. Today is day two. Looking at the program I can see that I'm schedule to brew up some coffee, go watch The Music Box with Laurel and Hardy, listen to a couple sides of Johnny Horton's least known hits and then, after a solid breakfast, I'm due to get out the primer and a couple brushes and hit that bedroom. If I can't go out and see art today, well, maybe I'll make some of my own. I'll pretend my room is a big canvas and go from there. It may not be a Van Gogh, but I think that Van Gogh might find it to be a mighty fine place to paint!


Bummer to missing Sheryl Crow, but not bumming over needing a real bumbershoot this weekend: here's this years Bumbershoot program:


Thaydra said...

I've been to Bumbershoot a time or two, and while it's always been a grand time, I had just as good a time going to the movies, dinner, and generally hanging out with buddies.

I did wind up working the Blackberry Festival on Monday. That was an interesting day. It was a true showing of the resiliance of Pacific Northwesterners though, seeing them trudge through the puddles and rain to peruse people's wares.

I'm glad you got your personal art festival. I am a true believer that sometimes the best "festival" is the one you make for yourself. =)

Thaydra said...

BTW- was that you who posted on my blog?