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 ofliving." 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,
Ex-railroad man, homeless guy and library patron. He loved Westerns, biscuits and gravy, his cigarettes and old cars. More than anything, he loved to laugh. Laughing wasn't always easy to do, but he laughed alot. Dammit, Patrick, you're going to be missed.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Small new world
I have arrived. Not just a destination but a place where I have been able to grow. Not so much reinventing myself but finding new ways to learn about life, about my possibilities, about all those things that somehow eluded me the last seven or eight years.
Going through old posts made me realize how far I have come. I am now working as the Branch Librarian in a small coastal town. I made my way from Idaho to the edges of the continent last year around this time. It was touch and go for a couple months but once I understood not only my limitations and the boundaries of the region I got to be mighty comfortable with my surroundings and myself.
I have found that as much as I love a big city, and with San Francisco close by I have as much Big City as I can handle, I can do well here in the small pond. I have found, too, that the penchant I have for volunteering is a good thing here. I have given my time and my heart to a number of agencies and non-profits that needed a strong back, a welcoming smile, a bit of intellect. In return I have found that the community that I shared my time with has given back ten fold.
My library is a welcoming, wonderful place to be. The crowd is mostly younger families, older retirees, wild cats from the Beat and Hippie days, old radicals, intelligensia, writers, photographers and artists of all stripes. I love how on some days it feels as if a concert just got out across the street, but on others how the potential for renewing the hopes and dreams of a once vital and industrious community is right around the corner. We are if anything hopeful here. Helpful, too. I have never seen a place go out of it's way the way it happens here to make sure that things get done. Done well, thoroughly and with a lot of passion, thought and care.
We are a place of light and magic. We are a place that is caught between the savage beauty of the sea and the unforgiving ruggedness of the mountains. We are one with savage beauty but because of our isolation and increased sense of independence, do not suffer fools gladly. This a place that, once you pitch your flag in the sand and make your strand, is determined to draw you in, make you whole, make you the best possible person you can be. Otherwise, if you don't wish to go that route, you can choose to be forgotten, a reminder of a life well lived or a wrecked shell pressed hard against the rocks. This place really does require that you pay attention, that you maintain a high sense of decorum and that be as real as you can possibly be.
Yes, being real here on the coast has been nothing but good for me. I have found life blossoming all around me here and I look forward to further discoveries.
And, ah, then there's my new and most delightful friend on the other side of the mountain...how happy I am! How lucky I am to have found her, for her to have found me! A mutual Like society of two, spreading the word of happiness and joy. Life is blossoming and I am filled with a sort of mirth, sunshine and glee that hasn't been seen in these parts a long, long time.