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.

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.

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. 


However, 


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." http://www.angeliniosteria.com/vivalosteria.html







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. 

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, http://www.charlestonfootprints.com/

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.


http://www.plantersinn.com/

http://www.charlestoncvb.com/

Books - BOOMerang

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.    

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.

http://michelemattei.net/

Poetry - Today - Kathleen Matson Blurock

Today


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.

Poetry - "Ruby" - Kathleen Matson

Ruby

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.

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 
way
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 
create."


no, baby, if you're going to create 
you're going to create whether you work 
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or 
you're going to create in a small room with 3 children 
while you're on 
welfare, 
you're going to create with part of your mind and your 
body blown 
away, 
you're going to create blind
crippled 
demented, 
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.

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.