a kitchen always feels like home

This afternoon I am at the kitchen table with a bowl of watermelon and a mug of vanilla jasmine tea, writing a few letters and working on cajoling a poem into form. The windows are open and an occasional spry breeze tosses an envelope from the stack beside me onto the floor. I've scratched out a packing list of things to take for an upcoming trip to Arizona to see my mom and have finished up the last bit of laundry, the air still holding the fragrant scent of lavender. 

The warmth and hospitality of a kitchen often makes me linger, long after meals have been served and the dishes cleared. I am happy I will soon be in the familiar kitchen of my mother's house, my childhood home. We will celebrate her eighty-five years over good food, laughter, and clusters of fond rememberings.

* I love this magnetic poem on the fridge left by my friend Brooke. 

imaginings

I've long wanted to see La Boheme, a favorite operatic story, and last week we finally did. An evening filled with so much beauty and emotion, I'm thinking about it still.

Pictured above are my great aunt Minnie's mother of pearl opera glasses, passed down to me over time. I cherish them and my curiosity is piqued each time I ponder all they have seen.

inside out

 

Here we begin or end most days on the shore, and sometimes, on the best days, we do both. We may look for bits of sea glass or unusual stones in low tide, spend a gusty afternoon with sand biting our ankles at the insistence of the wind as we run to the water laughing and out of breath. We may gather up the well-worn beach chairs and find a spot to sit with a book until the restless sun seems to grow weary and surrenders to the moon.

Lately I have felt a need for more time like this. More unhurried moments and unscheduled days. A continued Facebook sabbatical. A clearing for something unknown to unfold and the stillness to discover what that may be.

I recently came across this poem and am reminded of the magical way words can call out to us when we most need to find them.

sea language

 

frida

I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought

there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels

bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that

she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and 

read this and know that, yes, it's true I'm here, and I'm just as strange as you.

-Frida Kahlo

 "Las dos Fridas" (The Two Fridas) from today's visit to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.