James Taylor still has it.

For some reason this song, sung by James, just slays me with sweetness.  Takes me back to my last year in high school. 

This was recorded at the 2009 North Sea Jazz Festival in the Netherlands.  This was the same year that Lina's ex-boyfriend / now good friend Alex Mallett played at NSJF with the band Riot Box from Montreal.

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Mise-en-scène deux

Little snippets of things unpacked...

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Copper and brass plates and trays being polished and auditioning for a place....

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This week's flowers... spring is beckoning... check out the crazy yellow ball thingeys.  They don't even look real, do they - but most assuredly are.  They smell like the European style yellow mimosa.  I always think of Aunt Lolo, my father's sister, when I smell yellow mimosa.  

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My Aunt Lolo and Uncle Kurt were in their Porsche in the Swiss Alps in 1970 when they hit a patch of ice, slid under a semi, and were instantly decapitated.  We were told that the backseat was filled with bouquets of yellow mimosa from Lolo's garden, cut fresh that morning for friends they were going to visit.

I know this seems a rather gruesome ending to what started out as a happy post, but every time I see or smell yellow mimosa, it floods me with memories; sensory, visual, hard wired into my atomic structure.  The good memories come from living in Aunt Lolo's house on the French Riviera outside of Vence on the Moyen Corniche, where we were able to experience first hand the glorious flowering of the mimosas. During our familial wandering phase we ended up living there for six months after our evacuation from Uganda.

How about this glorious vision of Satsumas that I picked up at Metropolitan Market:

I wish you had Smell-O-Vision - the tangerine smell is unbelievable.  Instead of a portal would it be a snortal?

What smells kick off your brain - transports you to another time and place?  

 

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Lovely friends

Here's Leigh (on the left) and Deb.  I know both of them due to Lina's outstanding ability to make friends.  Leigh and Lina call each other "Bidsy" and "Madam" and have a deep and profound friendship.  They have more fun than you can shake a stick at.  Isn't Leigh luminous?

Deb and I became friends through Lina (natch) and Deb's daughter Jeannie.  Lina was quite insistent that Deb and I had to get together because we would totally hit it off and of course she was right.  Deb and her husband Buck are great to hang with and I have profound admiration for Deb who is an even bigger packrat than I am.  I'm a reformed packrat now.  Really truly.  Except for fabric.

Deb and Leigh became friends this summer while slaving over my house dismemberment along with Lina, Ali, Lori, Brad, Ren et. al.  Most of these folks had dinner with me at the Salty Iguana my first night in Kansas City last week.  Many margaritas were consumed and we all upped our cholesterol levels with the food.  Lori took photos - please send!

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Pure poetry... Kafka transliterated to the Australian outback.

Two Men:

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My Favorite Restaurant is in a GAS STATION!

Oklahoma Joe's.... mmmmm..... 

Kansas City BBQ at it's finest.

Drooling yet?

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The New Yorker, November 29, 2010

Peter Schjeldahl on the Ghent Altarpiece.

A quote, pure poetry:

"We know now, from brain science, that seeing is not a direct register of what meets our eyes but a fast mental construction that squares sensations with memory and desire:  what we believe and wish reality to be."

How true is this of so many things in our lives?

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Wowzers

Ali rocking his camera and flashes in KC:

and

/

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Dude man

Ali in 3D.  Watching the Krooked viddie.  Back to WA after 10 days in KC.  Guess who didn't sleep much?

Seattle street stuff.  Capitol Hill.

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Floors d'œuvre

Kitty hors d'œuvre....

Why sweep up a spill if they are going to eat it anyway?

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Who knew? update....

"the friend" mentioned in this story was my sister Anne who was living with me in London at the time and who has a much better memory than me.  Thank you, Anne!

Anne at the Rosewood Cafe, Tacoma WA, late October 2010

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