23:
This weekend was devoted to relaxation. Lots of naps (6 each day), lots of movies (4 on Saturday and 5 on Sunday), cleaning the house a little, doing the dog’s nails, and constantly battling hysterical ants who are hellbound to find every little crumb I leave them. Friday night I photographed Corbin Smith’s fabulous opening of a new collection of photographs. I focused on people looking at his work, i.e., by favorite form of portraiture, “casual portraits.” I took about 300 shots, sent him around 200, and then culled them down to 30 and put them on my Flickr website.
No good deed goes unpunished. After a long day, week, year, I came home Friday night to begin my weekend of leisure, when all of a sudden: what is that smell? Hmm, smells like skunk? Are my dogs smoking weed? Hmm, no, this is definitely skunk. When all of a sudden, Cody comes bounding in with this look on his face — he had just been sprayed in the face by a skunk. Oy.
So at 11:30, thinking I was going to watch TV and fall asleep, I get into the car to buy tomato juice to bathe my stinky dog at midnight. I got most of the smell out. Yuk.
Of all the movies I watched this weekend, one scene stuck out to this sentimental composer. Clint Eastwood’s sensitive 1988 portrayal of Charlie Parker (”BIRD”) has a scene where Bird (Forest Whitaker) is listening to Stravinsky’s FIREBIRD with his wife. She points out to him that he lives nearby. They impulsively get in the car and drive to Wetherly Drive. Charlie goes up to the gate and rings the doorbell. Igor, then Vera, come to the door to see who is there. Charlie just looks at his god, and walks away. I burst into tears. He was my hero too. I would have done the same thing.
10:
I lived with my family in Albuquerque, New Mexico from 1960 to 1963. One of the memories I have of that time is the SMELL of spring. Spring in the desert. And later, when I lived in Wisconsin or Boston, every spring I would smell the western desert calling me back.
22:
Almost looks like music notation.
[Photo by Roger Bourland]
17:
i put two large red inverted cans on top of the bird cages. You may remember I had a hawk problem, well, the smaller one that has been around for the past week turned out to be a falcon. He would just sit on the ledge waiting for the birds to come out. Patiently. Wow, does this creature know patience.
Well, I took off after him. He flew up to the tree right above and refused to budge until I got the long handled frut picker and went after him. He went to the wires, and finally he disappeared into a large tree. Once I put up these silly red cans, he doesn’t seem to want to come back, or that’s what I thought happened and he really just flew away.
[Photo by Roger Bourland]
05:
My father has gotten back in touch with the photographer he was some 40 years ago (I forgot to tell you, he earned his living as a Methodist, and later, United Church of Christ minister). I highly recommend his photoblog which consists of exactly one photo a day: a nice amount for this information overload reality we’ve brought upon ourselves. Here’s a photo he posted today taken of Bell Rock in Sedona Arizona– a place commonly known as being a cosmic vortex as well as an intergalactic airport.
04:
One of the unpleasant realities of being a homeowner is the fact that occasionally a rat decides to die in your house–usually somewhere in the floorboards that only a rat could get to. Well, we have one. A dead rat somewhere under the house, rotting in slomo. My nose is pretty good, so I’ve pinpointed his location to an area in the house, but then it just gets gross, and one area is just as bad as the other. In my mind I become Wiley Coyote and blow the whole area up with a hole in the two floors above it, but I come to my senses. I haven’t found him but will continue to do so. Where is that smellometer when you need one? Wish me luck.
In the odiferous memories department, I’ll never forget this one smell: kimchi. Back when Susan and Wes were living with us (both Korean-Americans and engaged), Susan’s mother gave us a stash of kimchi–a container, double wrapped. In case you don’t know, kimchi is one of the most pungent aromas there is. It is all permeating. We stored it in a refrigerator in our basement. And regardless of that fact, together with the double wrapped container, the next day I came home from work to find a house reeking of kimchi. It had taken over the entire house. I expelled it into the backyard but the damage had been done and the house smelled like kimchi for a week.
Same as when Adam and Julia brought over Korean barbeque and cooked it for hours. Our house smelled like sweet burned soy kimchi smoke for two months. Sheesh.
This past weekend, I decided to clean out a useful looking mystery bottle made of plastic with a red something in it that had some mold on it so I threw it out and put it in the dishwasher. Mistake. It had kimchi in it. Now my dishwasher smells like kimchi, even after four cleanings.
Moral of story: smells happen; and, beware of kimchi in your house, unless you know what you are doing.
[Photo: "Brushes Green" by Roger Bourland]
12:
While attending the premiere of my FLIGHT INTO EGYPT at the Union Theological Seminary, I couldn’t help but see the enormous canvasses surrounding me. They were commissioned under the theme of the black madonna. I didn’t copy down the names or painters but had to share my cellphone snapshots.
.
.
22:
One of our traveling companions was Jenny, who is a regular reader of this blog, and a great friend. In Spain, we went to Figueres one day to see the Salvador Dali museum (where he is buried). There are many terrific and so so works in an amazing building. Wes OD’d on Dali and has sworn to never look at another Dali ever again. I enjoyed it immensely, although the place was kept at a very warm temperature. Towards the end of our visit there, Jenny and I wandered off to see a part we had missed. We both have a TERRIBLE sense of direction, and so, well, we got lost in the Dali museum. At one point, I looked through a window and saw the rest of our party down on the 1st floor. I pointed this out to Jenny and she looked down at them. And SNAP, I got this terrific picture of her.
11:
Some of my favorite Spanish wines included a grape that I hadn’t known: Cariñena, which in Catalunya is called Samso. If you find this in a blend, try it out. I have no idea whether this wine makes it out to California, but I will keep my eyes open for it. The Wine Info Site provided this information:
09:
I’ve spent the last 10 days in Spain on the Costa Brava. I’ve been blogging to y’all daily in my mind, recharging my batteries, rethinking everything, eating fabulous Catalan cuisine and discovering amazing Spanish wines. Gaudi and Dali have been my constant companions. No UCLA, no blogging, no composing, no dogs, no bills, no Los Angeles. We fly home tomorrow hoping to avoid Hurricane Ding Dong or whatever the hell hurricane is approaching the East coast.
I cherish my commenters: thank you for participating in my reality. I have much more to say now. Apologies for not responding to your smart comments.
Stories, pictures, and observations will follow.
xoxox
Roger
rss feed
