Monday, January 24, 2011

Los Angeles what a week.....

Here's the view from my terrace window. I live in LA. I love it. Ok, Ok, I know the traffic is bad, but the upside is the neighborhoods have improved, by a long shot, better eating, better shopping, more movies. This week was packed. Saw an evening with Joel Grey at the Paley Center for Media and watched fabulous old film of his early days on TV. I hit the Los Angeles Art Show in downtown and was gobsmacked by John Baldessari's A to Z collection, sold as a set in mixgrafia, as well as Michele Mattei's glorious flowers in photography. Did the girl thing & bought new capri pants at J.Crew. Jumped into the writing life again with Jack Grapes and his merry band of pranksters, poets and tempest tossed writers. Spent a lovely Saturday evening at the Colburn School of Music downtown for a Brahms concert, and did the flea market in Santa Monica yesterday with Lisa. Finished off the week with dinner at Angelini Osteria, my favorite restaurant in town. I mean really, the weather is 75, the rest of the country is in the deep freeze and even though my car needs some repair from the major pot holes in Wilshire Blvd., I can't complain about this city. LA? I love it. 

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Books: Binocular Vision by Edith Pearlman

If you read Ann Patchett's introduction to
                          BINOCULAR VISION,
you will surely turn the page,
and the next page,
and the next.

I am awestruck and filled with wonder.

My breath has been taken away.
These very short stories are touching,
mind bending,
they make me want to read them aloud and
                                                 and every word.
Oh God, the glory of living in a world with art.

"The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again."
                                                                         - William Faulkner

Monday, January 17, 2011

ART/ Photo LA

UCLA Bamboo - Kathleen Blurock photo
Nan Goldin, check.
Elliott Erwitt, check.
Julius Schulman, Imogene Cunningham, check check check.

Also saw some interesting things at PHOTO EYE,
a 2001 space oddyssey looking ilfachrome that was fab,
Robert Tat's usual great selection
and some tough looking street stuff at Rivera & Rivera.
The Australians had "sculpted" photography.

German, Netherlands, London all covered.
Interesting stuff.

"It is through living that we discover ourselves - at the same time as we discover the world around us." 
                                        - Henri Cartier-Bresson 1952

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Food as ART, the genius of Gino Angelini

 When I die I want to go to Gino heaven where I can eat all day and never get fat, never be overloaded or sick. I can go from warm octopus salad with arugula & cherry tomatoes to tagliatelle with lamb ragu and wash it down with the lovely La Massa without a care that it will be too much for me. I can even eat the warm Nonna cake with pine nuts and vanilla ice cream, so divine. God won't care, neither will Gino. He'll just laugh and take another swallow of whatever he is drinking. It's easy for him to cook in heaven, no heat. A few tables with comfortable chairs and a wall of wine whose bottles are magically replaced as one is removed. The tables are in the middle of an olive grove with little bamboo lights hung from the branches. It is heaven, Gino heaven. But it's MY Gino heaven,
here on earth, in Los Angeles, on Beverly Blvd, and all you have to do is call.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Poetry Workshop: Richard Jones & Jack Grapes

SHARE with a friend.

Richard Jones:
"I don't paint what I see
             I paint what I want you to see."

Jack Grapes:
"Write poems that are so light
they                               God."
        fly        up    to    

The workshop was sublime, a meal, delicious, funny, embracing and hit that spot in the solar plexus, sexus, nexus. It's not so important, it's only poetry. Make a list and write from that. Write like you talk. The poem represents you, and your rodeo, it's everlasting.

"There is a desk in my office,
but I want a larger desk,
a much larger desk,
in a bigger room
with all my bookshelves,
with ALL of my books around me.
This is a serviceable desk,
but I need a bigger desk,
a wider desk,
an enormous desk for my enormous appetite
because that is where I live,
that's where I imagine
that's where I dream
and tell the           truth
that's where I am a girl
that's where I am a writer.
My paradise is my desk.
That is where
I want to
where I arrest
the rush
the rush
of course
the rush
and the speed of the world."
               - Kathleen

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Poetry: Richard Jones & Jack Grapes

Richard Jones, Professor of English at DePaul University and editor of the literary journal POETRY EAST is in town this weekend presenting a poetry workshop with Jack Grapes, award-winning poet, actor, playwright (Circle of Will), teacher and editor and publisher of ON THE BUS literary journal. I will be there, grateful to be present with these two literary giants. 

The Bell 
Richard Jones 

In the tower the bell 
is alone, like a man 
in his room, 
thinking and thinking. 

The bell is made of iron. 
It takes the weight 
of a man 
to make the bell move. 

Far below, the bell feels 
hands on a rope. 
It considers this. 
It turns its head. 

Miles away, 
a man in his room 
hears the clear sound, 
and lifts his head to listen. 

Nothing Left To Chance
Jack Grapes 

Begin with fish, 
smack their heads off with a mallet 
or tear through the entire phone book 
sheet by sheet 
and digest the lives listed 
five hundred to a page. 
You don't remember one old phone number 
but all the addresses 
for each home you've lived in 
bob like little boats 
on the ocean of your daydreams. 
You can't understand why poets 
write lines like that, 
or what makes a car go, 
and when you see those steel girders 
going up on the vacant lot 
the exposed elevator shafts, 
glass and concrete not far behind 
you wonder how so much can be built
one piece at a time 
and nothing left to chance. 

Thursday, January 6, 2011


Temporary great room in THE HERMOYNE. Top floor.

A treehouse, a perch, a zen space with a lookout over the canvas of LA from downtown through Hancock Park and the Miracle Mile to Century City. 1929, originally a hotel, the building has the sensuous Old Hollywood vibe.

Sunday, January 2, 2011


Three cats jumped off the morning papers today. Cats in clothing, cats in literature, and cats in portraiture. First Sunday of the year, a blossom, a holdover, a mass of dirty dishes and glasses and roasting pans in the kitchen waiting....
waiting for someone,
who? Not me, to clear them. I'm too interested in the New New York, the arts, Debo's latest book and what to give my bestest girl friend in New York for her bracelets? Leather bags? Flowers? Apples for a year. So much in life to choose from. I am quite grateful for the 5 senses, the 4 seasons, the 3 spirits, the 2 options and the one true self. Welcome to 2011.