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

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Storm passes

When I saw this reader photo posted by dyslexicspeedreader in the LA Times today I suddenly was washed over by an extremely large wave of nostalgia. I remember those sorts of cloudy days in Orange County, days, after a storm would pass, that smelled of ozone and wet sage and far too many chemicals freshly washed from the air. I saw that photo and realized how far away from home I am, and what truly constitutes home in the heart. As much as I have become and embraced being a "Northwesterner" I will always be a Californio, a man made of sea water, Joshua trees and orange groves, of asphalt, high end malls and flakes of magic shed from the auras of movie stars. I will always be closer to this scene above...one filled with sky, sand and surf...than I will ever be of the beauty that lies before me any time I wish to look out my window and revell in it..a scene filled with farway mountains, snow and a sun that falls into some faraway ocean that I rarely get to see.

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