chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

Monthly Archives: February 2014

dead…

FOUND…

we…

in that…

funny…

THE TOBOGGAN…

dusk…

ink…

begin…

SHARP…

This paper…

THE YAWNING…

window shopping

Pickwick Books, Hollywood BoulevardSometimes, if it was not a school night, my mother would suggest that we go “window shopping” after dinner. We would hasten to clear the table and clean up the kitchen, then the three of us would get in the car and drive to nearby Westwood Village or further afield to Beverly Hills or Hollywood.

There we strolled, pausing in front of store windows and commenting on the clothes or the mannequins or the other objects on display. I never seemed to tire of running up the sloped ramp of the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Anderton Court Shops or fitting my small feet into the stars’ footprints at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

Now and then, our browse would move indoors, to the sprawling aisles and soaring shelves of Pickwick Books or Campbell’s Bookstore. There we would separate, disappearing for a while into the subjects and books that interested us, occasionally making a purchase before we resumed our walk. And often there was ice cream: the venerable C. C. Brown’s and Wil Wright’s or that new kid on the block, “31 Flavors.”

If these trips were aids to digestion, they could hardly be called exercise. Yet without any overt teaching, they were always a lesson in observation, in seeing: color, shape, texture, design. And it was something we did together, without conflict and with little emotional demand, bringing home bellies happy with ice cream and recollections to fuel imagination.
. . . . .
Pickwick Books photo

in the morning…

words of love…

SpeakEasy 13: Love Uncensored

In honor of Valentine’s Day, fifteen couples will share expressions of love and all its entanglements this evening at SpeakEasy 13: Love Uncensored. Please join us at 7:00pm in the Mount Baker Theatre Encore Room in Bellingham, Washington. Free (donations appreciated). Adults only, please.

freeze…

remembering Ira…

Ira 1983A couple of months ago, by way of a random Facebook post, I learned of the very sudden, too-soon death of a dear friend. I met Ira in the 1970s, when we both lived in Seattle, and again in the 80s, when we both lived in Los Angeles. For most of the years since, he had lived in Israel. Our contact was occasional, by e-mail or on Facebook, but always with the warmth of old friends. I was — am still — stunned and saddened by his death.

Yesterday, unbidden, this memory of Ira popped into my head. It was 30 years ago: 1984. It was a time when surgery meant you stayed in the hospital for some days, and that’s where I was. I felt emotionally and physically depleted and sort of afraid of myself — of the tubes dripping into my arm, the staples holding me together — as if at any moment I might leak or tear or break into pieces.

I didn’t really want to see (or, more to the point, be seen by) anyone, had left instructions for friends not to visit, and mostly they hadn’t. But not Ira. He showed up with his big smile, slipped off his shoes, crawled right into the hospital bed with me and gave me the biggest hug. He didn’t treat me like something fragile or dangerous. Disheveled, unfamiliar to myself, I was, to Ira, simply his friend.

It may have been one of the sweetest things anyone ever did for me and it makes me so, so sad to know that he’s no longer in the world. Thanks, Ira.

looking…

It’s snowy…

along…

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