Saturday, December 31, 2011

Rest in Peace - Zeisel & Duckworth, Artists Extraordinary

Eva Zeisel at the Museum of Modern Art in 1997, with a piece from a porcelain table service introduced in 1946; behind her is a chair she designed.

Look at this woman's face; kindness, wisdom and clarity, with a bit of the little girl thrown in. Rest in Peace, Eva Zeisel, the master of ceramics dies today at 105. 

Read about her, she is a unique and inspirational woman.

And Ruth Duckworth, another inspiration. She was the woman who said if you want to be an artist, you cannot have a husband. 

I may be in Pittenweem, but I am reading the New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, The Wall Street Journal, The Scotsman, and of course, the Daily

Ruth Duckworth
Ruth Duckworth

Free-thinking sculptor-potter inspired by the abstracted forms of nature

The sculptor-potter Ruth Duckworth, who has died aged 90, shaped new ways of thinking about ceramics in the second half of the 20th century. Approaching clay as a sculptor rather than as a potter, she brought an aesthetic rigour to her refined vessel forms, figurative sculptures and installations, which range in size from a few inches to breathtakingly large, site-specific commissions.
In both her life and work, Duck-worth's background was one of non-conformity. In Germany, as a young girl, she risked prosecution by defacing a Nazi monument and resented being unable to attend art school because her father was Jewish. Most challenging of all was her determination to gain international respectability as a sculptor working primarily in clay.
Born Ruth Windmüller in Hamburg, the youngest of five children, she came to Liverpool in 1936 as a refugee from the Nazi regime to join her sister Renate, and study at Liverpool art school. Lively and questioning, Duckworth found formal academic teaching stultifying, but nevertheless it confirmed her love of, and aptitude for, sculpture. She was fascinated by performance and art, and for two years toured with a puppet theatre where she carved heads in an expressionist style. Following second world war work in a munitions factory, she moved to London where she met the sculptor and designer Aidron Duckworth, whom she married in 1949. Determined to work as a sculptor, she produced gravestones, though she had an early success when commissioned to carve in low relief the 14 stations of the cross for a church in New Malden, Surrey.
A change in direction came in the mid-1950s when she became fascinated with clay and ceramics. On the advice of a fellow refugee, the potter Lucie Rie, she studied pottery at Hammersmith art school, but again found the teaching too restrictive and rapidly moved to the Central School of Art and Crafts, where she responded to the more enlightened, experimental atmosphere. She later taught at the school.
In the late 1950s the Duckworths built a modernist house in Kew, south-west London, where she had her own studio producing both functional ware and individual vessels. With clean, minimal shapes, the tableware was very different from the prevailing taste for reduction-fired stoneware advocated by luminaries such as Bernard Leach. By contrast, the hand-built, coiled, often asymmetrical, totemic forms, covered with dry, crusty glazes, were partly derived from the abstracted forms of nature, a concern that became a recurring theme in her work.
Duckworth felt that she was making little progress in London, and so the offer of a year's teaching at the University of Chicago's Midway studios seemed an ideal opportunity to rethink. Apart from short periods, she was to remain in Chicago, eventually acquiring an old pickle factory, which served as home and studio, until her death. Her marriage ended in divorce in 1967.
In Chicago, tableware was abandoned in favour of one-off pieces and public commissions. The first significant breakthrough was for a 400 sq ft stoneware mural Earth Water and Sky, a massive project covering four walls and the ceiling at the geophysical sciences building of the university. With its broad, flowing interpretation of nature, the work suggested the ebb and flow of the natural world. Later came Clouds Over Lake Michigan for the Dresdner bank, in the Board of Trade Building in Chicago. The vast, sweeping surfaces, inspired by meteorological and geological themes, again demonstrated her abstract interpretation of nature.
Alongside large-scale public works, Duckworth created smaller, more intimate pieces that included abstract wall panels in stoneware and vessel-based forms in white, unglazed porcelain. One series, the cup and blade group, not only sensitively highlights the translucency and delicacy of the material, but also creates a satisfying balance between shape, proportion and space.
Usually around 6in tall, these modest sculptures can be seen as metaphors for relationships, the couplings and interaction between the two shapes – one rounded and hollow, the other a finely wrought slab – seeming to cut into, but to be an intrinsic part of the other. Tabletop figures have the same, sure sense of abstracted form and surface.
Fascinated by scale, Duckworth became intrigued by the stylised, figurative sculptures of ancient Egypt. Her larger-than-life-sized sculptures reflect influences from Henry Moore, who had encouraged her in the early 1950s, and were made in bronze, smaller ones in porcelain.
Diminutive in height, with sharp, bright, piercing eyes, Duckworth saw herself primarily as an artist rather than a theoretician, rarely writing about her work, though she would discuss it with insight. "Form," she said, "is what matters to me in any material", a concern that she explored by avoiding sentiment and nostalgia – qualities often associated with clay – and by honing and refining to allow the shape and surface to tell its own story. Her quiet but powerful presence could seem daunting but, after an initial reserve, she was a generous and warm personality.
Although represented from time to time in mixed exhibitions in the UK, many organised by Henry Rothschild, she had a major retrospective earlier this year at the Ruthin craft centre in north Wales, which provided an opportunity to see a full range of her work. She enjoyed being in the UK so much that, on her return to Chicago, she put her house and studio on the market, determined to move back permanently.
Duckworth is survived by her sister, Ilse Windmüller, as well as her nephew Peter, whom she and Aidron adopted as their son after the death of his mother, another of Ruth's sisters.
• Ruth Duckworth, sculptor, born 10 April 1919; died 18 October 2009

The Kingdom of Fife - Pittenweem Fish & Chips Bar

 What a pity, it is closed for two weeks for the holidays. The best fish and chips around, and it is just down the street, as is the post office, the chemist, the convenience store, Robert Adamson, the hairdresser (really good hairdresser, look out Los Angeles, because not only does Robert do great hair AND color, he gives great conversation, which every girl knows is important when she is in the chair), the new store The Wooly Brew, that has taken over the Rake Around's old space and given Pittenweem a fabulous new knitting store, which is more than convenient when there are gale force winds outside and it's time to knit more fingerless gloves, Barnett's Bakers, Page Pottery,, Amy Page who has created the most beautiful mugs and plates and bowls and jugs in the loveliest shade of green/blue watery turquoise what do you call that color?, The LITTLE GALLERY, Art Extraordinary, which always has the best and most deep of the deep water of Art, and Donald Butcher, The FISHER GALLERY,  and the Cocoa Tree Cafe                 which are all open, THANK GOD, during this time because we all need our hair done and bread baked and chocolates from the Cocoa Tree. Have I forgotten anyone? It's a pretty good line up on the High Street.

One fish supper with salt and vinegar and brown sauce.

THIS is Pittenweem.

Happy Hogmanay.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Kingdom of Fife - The Royal Burgh of Pittenweem

 In Pittenweem, fishermen harvest prawns, crab, lobster, and the all important haddock. Just a small village of 3,000 living in stone cottages and doing their shopping on the high street. The summer arts festival brings 20,000 people into town each August, and locals open their homes for the artist's exhibitions. Set in a small neuk that juts into the North Sea, overlooking the Firth of Forth and the Isle of May, Pittenweem is a step back into time; relaxed, friendly, and filled with some of the most interesting people one would want to meet.

James II of Scotland (1437-1460) described the East Neuk of Fife with its burghs built around sheltered bays and rich farmland as "a fringe of gold on a beggar's mantle."

Pittenweem's history dates back to the 7th century. Its name is of Pictish origins and means 'place (pit) by or of the cave (weem)', where it is said St. Fillan chose to live while he converted local Picts to Christianity. Nice, eh? No conversion or dragging into the cave today, but one can visit if it doesn't creep you out.

Today, Pittenweem is the main fishing centre of the East Neuk, a fact celebrated at the annual East Neuk Fish Festival also held in August, and has the best chipper ever.

The Fife Coastal Path hugs the coastline and connects neighboring villages.

Pittenweem = beauty.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

The Kingdom of Fife - Crail Road

There are only 7 hours of light, the sun is beginning to change at the turn off to the Dunino Road.

In the distance is the Firth of Forth, just behind the Boarhills Church.

We are in the Kingdom of Fife, and what is there to do between Christmas and Hogmanay? Read, write, eat. Outside it is gale force winds.

Travel - Literature - 1Q84 Haruki Murakami

Reading Murakami is taking a journey through story, into sound, into many layers of foreign worlds. I cannot put it down.

Page 177:
I am dumbstruck by something Tengo says he felt about story as he grew into adolescence, that feels as if it is something I have said, somewhere in a foreign land. Certainly it is something I know from a place I cannot name. It is a signpost.

"The role of a story was, in the broadest terms, to transpose a single problem into another form. Depending on the nature and direction of the problem, a solution could be suggested in the was like a piece of paper bearing the indecipherable text of a magic spell..."

Please read 1Q84 so we can discuss it. I do believe it has a magic. I do believe story can transport us, transform us and change us for the better.

If you are in Los Angeles, go to BOOK SOUP for it:


Or better yet, the yelp lets you choose your own

December 28, 2011 Scotland Poetry & Drawing

    "My boat struck something deep.
Nothing happened. Sound, silence, waves.
                       Nothing happened,

or perhaps

    has happened,
and I'm sitting in the middle of my new life."

                                     - Juan Ramon Jimeniz
                                                   Nobel Prize Winner in Literature

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Travel - Edinburgh - St. Giles Cathedral

St. Giles' Cathedral

St. Giles' Cathedral stands on the Royal Mile between Edinburgh Castle and the Palace of Holyroodhouse. 
Majestic, a touch stone, known as the "High Kirk of Edinburgh, it is the Mother Church of Prebyterianism and contains the Chapel of the Order of the Thistle (Scotland's chivalric company of knights headed by the Queen)." It stands in a rather open space in the old town, considering everything else is tightly built together, and ignores the tourist shops selling cashmere, the whiskey shops and street musicians. The terrace gives one a place to stop and consider this glorious piece of architecture on the climb toward the castle, open and empty in December, packed with actors, pipers and mimes in August during the Edinburgh festival. 

"There is record of a parish church in Edinburgh by the year 854, served by a vicar from a monastic house, probably in England. It is possible that the first church, a modest affair, was in use for several centuries before it was formally dedicated by the bishop of St Andrews on 6 October 1243. The parish church of Edinburgh was subsequently reconsecrated and named in honour of the patron saint of the town, St Giles, whose feast day is celebrated on 1 September.

That St Giles, a 7th century hermit (and, later, abbot) who lived in France, became the patron of both town and church was probably due to the ancient ties between Scotland and France.

According to legend, Giles was accidentally wounded by a huntsman in pursuit of a hind and, after his death in the early 8th century, there were dedicated to him hospitals and safe houses for cripples, beggars and lepers were established throughout England and Scotland within easy reach of the impoverished and the infirm. St Giles is usually depicted protecting a hind from an arrow, which had pierced his own body, a fine relief of which rests in the tympanum over the west (main) doors of the Cathedral."

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Travel - Christmas 2011 - United Kingdom

Ten days in the United Kingdom for the best of Scotland; it's museums, restaurants, galleries, shops, villages and the people that inhabit this truly unique and 180 degree opposite of Los Angeles.

Let's go on a ride. 

Christmas 2011 Poetry - Michelangelo complete

"If all my roughness, then, should be so blest
by your compassion, then what penance ought
my feverish ardour by your rules be taught? "

                  - Michelangelo 

Happy Holidays to all 

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Christmas 2011 Poetry - Michelangelo

"and so with me, among all models least:
for I was born to a great destiny -
to find new birth in you, Lady most high." 

         - Michelangelo

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Christmas 2011 Poetry - Michelangelo

" Likewise on roughest paper, artists will
Make sketches, long before they use the brush.
Among a hundred efforts, crude and rash,
The right one springs at last from so much skill."  

         - Michelangelo

Friday, December 16, 2011

Christmas 2011 Poetry - Michelangelo


    "If noble concepts have a birth divine
     In human looks and acts, the value is
     Doubled - that from such petty images
     A face, not art's, should in the dull stone shine." 

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Interiors - Bulthaup Kitchen

West Hollywood condo installation of the B3 Bulthaup kitchen. Integrated into the great room makes it easy to cook, dine, watch tv and socialize all at once.

Incredibly easy to use.
Incredibly easy to keep clean.
Incredibly fun to cook in.

photography by Milroy & McAleer

Monday, December 12, 2011

Best of fiction - Books 1Q84 - Haruki Murakami

On page 158 of 925 pages. An intrigue, reading 1Q84, with it's beginning soundtrack of Janacek's Sinfonietta, written in 1926. Of course I had to go to itunes and download the music, which bridges the images so well. I have never read Murakami before, but knew about him, certainly. It's clear. The reader always knows where the character is, whether you like what he or she is doing or not, you know what they are doing. 1Q84 is a word bridge and a sign post to the bizarre quick-slow world we all now live in. 
The writer does that Hemingway thing. He hooks you and reels you in. 

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Yoga & restoration with Jillian Pransky

 Restorative Yoga with Jillian Pransky

Herein lies the rub: it's not about doing, it is about "be-ing." Jillian Pransky, of Yoga Jillian, is doing just that on the east coast. I took her teacher training. Train in relaxation? Yes, learning how to prop with blankets and bolsters, blocks and mats, learning how to let go, unlock, roll clear, drain down tension out of the muscles. Let go of what is holding in the muscle, then we are more free to stretch.

She teaches in New York City, in Hoboken, at Kripalu, does special trainings at Yogaworks in California.

Restoration yoga takes a great big dive inside, clears the muscles, the mind, the heart & spirit. Fresh air. Try it.   Jillian's page or


Sunset Strip Billboard WAR HORSE

Mr. Spielberg's WAR HORSE is coming for Christmas.

The enormous billboard of the horse head on Sunset Boulevard lets the brain fill in the body, and one can imagine the horse galloping over the Hollywood Hills, alive, alive. The movie is imprinted onto the Los Angeles landscape, super sized. War of the Worlds, Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan, Empire of the Sun, my personal favorite, the entire movie exists for the last heart wrenching tear-jerking boy-with-mother scene. Mr. Spielberg knows how to do war.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Thoughts about the blog....

“ A great work of art, if it accomplishes anything,
serves to remind us, or let us say to set us dreaming of all that is fluid
and intangible, which is to say, the universe.
It cannot be understood; it can only be accepted or rejected.
If accepted we are revitalized, if rejected, we are diminished.” - Henry Miller

There has been feedback about the blog. Thank you.
Some say focus more, some say don’t put ads on it, one more thing to manage, some say you have to think about what you are selling. I say listen:

The artist is affected by a note of music, a drop of rain, a haiku and Woody Allen, the way color becomes a flavor in my mouth, or how I hear a symphony when I observe Rousseau’s Monkeys in the Jungle.

I am in love with art, literature, film, food, the masters of fashion, music, theatre, travel. It's life. How can I separate myself and focus on one thing only? Why should I limit myself? Why not explore and examine the richness? This is not a dress rehearsal. This is real life, and I’m never going to get back Wednesday, December 7th, 2011 so I make it a kaleidoscopic cacophony of Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, and that crazy crooked Christmas tree.

 It all boils down to one’s bed at night, to sleep, to dream, 

“ay, there’s the rub; for in that sleep of death what dreams may come
when we have shuffled off this mortal coil….”

All passion springs from the heart and comes from love. Whether it is Walt Whitman or Tennessee Williams, Herman Melville or William Faulkner, Saul Bellow or Ernest Hemingway or Jane Austen, it all comes from love, Proust or Wilde, Anais Nin’s Journals, Murakami or Dickens, Shakespeare or Warhol, it all comes from love.

It all comes from love and love is not final.

Let me set you dreaming. I trust you will be revitalized.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Thanksgiving 2011

Food, wonderful food. It was the second helping of sausage stuffing that got to me, and I remember thinking driving over in the car what's the problem? Why does everyone worry about how much food they are going to eat? Right. Wrong! I'm eating, I'm enjoying and just a little bit more of this, a little bit more of that, then 3 desserts, creme freish, and chocolate chips cookies, which I baked. Oh, bliss, obsession, pure sugar love, oh turkey blonk and cover cooch, let's eat some more today. Can't go to the mall, too crowded. Can't go to the movies, too crowded, let's eat instead. Oh joy.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Photography as Art - Cecil Beaton

White panama hat by Suzy, 1934.

This is to show where the idea may have bubbled up from, the idea that made it's way to MOCA's gala last week where tables of twenty had real live heads popping up through them, to be observed from both directions during dinner.

Here Cecil Beaton gives us a more genteel look at fashion, shall we say, while at the same time skewers it, well, fashionably.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Food as Art - Eat it, Enjoy it, Confess the next day.

It is Angelini Osteria, again.

I know, I know, there are so many other places to eat in Los Angeles, so many worthy rooms like Campanile, which I love and go to regularly, Mozza, excellent, Marino on Melrose, still great value, fab food & big leather banquettes, very old world.  There is JAR and CRAFT and Drago and Matteo and it is wonderful to sample the delights the city has to offer. 


time after time I find myself right back at Angelini, especially for lunch when it is not as crowded, and tucking into a chop salad, or the heavenly lasagna, or the warm sliced swordfish with pistachios and baratta. Did I spell that right? Who cares? It's GINO ANGELINI and the magic he works. I took the New Yorkers there during their visit and their response was "I could eat here every night."

Here it is: "Harvey's Guss" Grilled Bistecca alla Fiorentina "for Two" Finished in the Wood Oven. 

Eat it, enjoy it, confess the next day. 

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Travel - Charleston, South Carolina

Charleston, South Carolina,
a most surprising and wonderful city to visit.
Deep in history, rich in architectural splendor, vivid in iconography, places of worship and aerial views.

I landed at Planters Inn, right on Market Street, ate in their dining room, Peninsula Grill, which, by the way, is top drawer. Best roast chicken I've ever had, dessert a mile high ride.
My room was cozy with a gas burning fireplace, and full of everything Relais & Chateaux offers overlooking a garden terrace lit with gas lanterns, charming.
 I walked the streets of Charleston marveling at a place that gave me a feeling of being "outside" the stresses and strains of America. Still, of course it is America, it's own America, the south.

Go to Charleston, take a walking tour with CHARLESTON FOOTPRINTS,

Michael Trouche's tour gave me mcuh more information than just walking on my own. He is 7th generation Charleston, and knows it all.

Eat at the charming places; Cru Cafe, Halls Chophouse, Husk.

Shop King Street upper for clothes, lower for design & home. The sweetgrass baskets for sale all over town are the last real crafts in America. Luscious.

There is so much to do and see and get the feel of here, way too much for me to tell you about except to say go there, enjoy, and God Bless America.

Books - BOOMerang

Boomerang: Travels in the New Third World
Here is a clear, vibrant and funny explanation of the world economic crisis. 
From Iceland to Greece, back to Ireland and a quick flight over to California 
including highlights from his interview with X-Governator Schwarzenegger, 
Michael Lewis lays out what happened, how crazy and how all so human 
the complicated mess is. What a compelling read.    

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Photography - Michele Mattei

The photography of Michele Mattei

Remember in OUT OF AFRICA, when Karen Blixen sits at table with Denys Finch Hatton and Berkeley Cole, and tells the story of a woman who walked out on a beach so white...

well, here is the flip side,

a black that is so black...
a black that is drawn from a Lee Bontecou hole, a Courbet hole. Velvet black, pitch black, coal black, complete black.

Michele Mattei has transcended black in the background of her flower. It is the black that makes the white so very white, the green so very green, a green that takes me away to a soft shore on that Karen Blixen beach, to a meadow filled with blue bells in an English countryside, to the beauty, beauty, beauty in the corners of my mind.
The flower. The meditation.

Michele's exquisite photographs of flowers, artists, beauty, portraits are not to be missed.
Go to her website and experience her art.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Poetry - Today - Kathleen Matson Blurock


Up late, stiff arms
celebrate, false starts
run brush, through hair
stop to look, despair
forget that, keep on
grocery store, set alarm
goes off, in my head
must have been what she said

Off in a dream it's only a stoplight
off in a dream only a school
off in a dream remembering night life
off in a dream those nights in the pool

Rush around, all day
feel the burn my way
try to rest, no luck
burned the roast, life sucks
Children scream, at what I said
children scream, put to bed
Cat lies in my lap
book read, hear the snap
firelight flickers on
not too long I'll be gone.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Poetry - "Ruby" - Kathleen Matson


I is Ruby,
daughter of Eina,
my Mother so wise,
wise as a queen
when she smile
there is light all around,
spotlight of light
that grows and gathers up
all the boys and girls.

My Mother so strong,
strong as they ox
who pulls the wagon.

My Mother so fair
so fair, not county fair,
but fair in dealn
and all folks know that.

My Mother cook the dinner
balance the baby
love my Daddy
feed her Momma
kiss her Papa
sit alone in a chair
in her room,
eyes closed,
lips in a smile
she far far away,
happy away,
she rockn herself in lavender,
don't mind the honeybees,
butterfly stop at her shoulder.
she go somewhere she love,
walk thru daisies,
gaze at mountains,
stoop down to drink our Lord's nectar from the stream.

I can't come.
I stay here,
stir the pot,
rock the baby,
wait for Mother,
my Mother,
like honey drippin in love.

She is my Mama
I play at school
go home to her at night
go home to sunlight
and fresh air
and cherry pie
and tickled funny bone
following me up to bed,
and she wrap me,
and sit by my side
and turn out a light
to point to a star
through the window
she tell me is
my star, to watch me
all night and dust down
a secret love
on Ruby, contented mind
she tell me,
my Mama tell me,
my Mama wise and strong.
my Mama bathed in sunlight,
spotlight of light
that grows and gathers up
all the boys and girls.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Charles Bukowski - Poetry

air and light and time and space  

"you know, I've either had a family, a job, something 
has always been in the 
but now
I've sold my house, I've found this 
place, a large studio, you should see the space 
and the light
 for the first time in my life I"m going to have a place and the time to 

no, baby, if you're going to create 
you're going to create whether you work 
16 hours a day in a coal mine
you're going to create in a small room with 3 children 
while you're on 
you're going to create with part of your mind and your 
body blown 
you're going to create blind
you're going to create with a cat crawling up your 
back while 
the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment, 
flood and fire. 

baby, air and light and time and space 
have nothing to do with it 
and don't create anything 
except maybe a longer life to find 
new excuses 
for.                                          - Charles Bukowski 
                                                            THE LAST NIGHT OF THE EARTH POEMS
I tell myself to remember this, always.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

My best LA: Flea Market

Santa Monica Flea Market at the Santa Monica Airport
1st & 4th Sunday's of the month:

Last time someone was selling a plethora of empty Hermes boxes, an unlikely sight, one I had never witnessed, and of course if you have any Hermes scarves without a box, here was your chance to get one.

Along with that comes vintage shoes, cashmere sweaters, french mirrors encrusted with roses, books, cutlery, china, shoes and more shoes, beds, paintings, jewellery, need I go on? You get the picture.

Make sure you take bags, and a hat, and a sweater. You never know if it is going to be hot or cold.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

The lovely Norris Meadow - Yellowstone National Park

Norris Meadow this year is terrifically green, magnificently green, a green so green,
well, you can see,
Norris Meadow with the spring creek running through it is a place of joy,
and a place where one feels there is no
other place in the world they would rather be.
Thankfully Yellowstone Park is still there.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

My LA - Downtown

How large can those banners be? This is downtown, across from LA Live, see how large it is by comparing the top of the car in the lower right hand corner to the building. I was at a stop light and couldn't help myself. I had to take the picture. Lots of warrior attitude going on here.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Travel - Big Sur Paradise

Want to sleep in paradise?
"Poppies will make them sleep....."

Post Ranch Inn, Big Sur,
definitely the gold standard in eco natural paradise with 5 star food.

Infinity pool, check,
massive stars at night, check,
fabulous massage, check,
why go anywhere else?

Well , there is Pheiffer Beach, Nepenthe for peasant blouses & lunch on the patio with the ocean crashing below, and the Henry Miller Memorial Library which is NOT to be missed. A lot has changed there in the 20 years since I first visited and Emil was still alive and at his leisure with his feet up just inside the door. Glad to know a mountainous figure of American literature is held in esteem in this remarkable place.
And Deetjun's Big Sur Inn is charming and affordable and right off the highway.

Go, breathe and let this magnificent landscape work it's magic.
Serenity, calm and joy will follow.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Poetry - Jack Kerouac


"To Edward Dahlberg -

Don't use the telephone.
People are never ready to answer it,
Use Poetry."


 ----Jack Kerouac

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Art at the Huntington - John Frame

Here is the exhibition that words will not define. Here is the sun, the moon, the caress mother did not give you, the spikes of grass, the sea of green, aligned with a magnification of blinding surreal little whispers that we all have inside of us if we only listen. 

Food as Art, Providence

Spaghetti with Sea Urchin

I don't know how long I can go on like this. It's so good, and it's so rich,
and this one is sooooo good
and sooooo expensive,
but worth it.
They deliver, the taste is sublime.

Providence on Melrose.