Spectacular rainbow Swiss chard.
Last night we went to see The King’s Speech, which was great. Really great. I admit that when Colin Firth was standing next to Ralph Fiennes in The English Patient I understood why his wife dallied with the Count. Now, I think I might choose dear, complicated Colin.
On Saturday morning we continued the weekend-long birthday celebration (the actual date is the 16th). One only turns 50 once, so one has to do it up a bit. It started with Hydra playing guitar in the library while Dodger and I read the morning paper, drank coffee and tossed in the occasional harmony.
Then we ventured down to Santa Monica to the fabled Santa Monica Farmer’s Market.
The Good Food podcast from KCRW does a market report at the beginning of each Saturday’s show, so you can keep abreast of what’s in season and shop accordingly, even if you can’t get to this seaside town’s market.
This little item is fresh, but not available at the market. That’s the end of the Santa Monica Pier over his shoulder.
Sunny seventies Saturday at the beach. The park above the beach at Santa Monica used to feel a little shabby. I think they’re taking it more seriously now. There were people using for all sorts of reasons, including as a place to bed down, but it felt like a botanical garden today.
Coy amid the flora.
After 23 years in Southern California, still not too proud to pose like a tourist. Route 66 would get me almost all the way home! (Home in the sense of the wonderful corner of Noble County, Indiana where I grew up.)
Lunched on a cod sandwich and fries at Rusty’s Surf Ranch on the pier and people-watched. Probably heard accents from a dozen different countries as we strolled.
Drove up Wilshire Boulevard to the L.A. County Museum of Art. Must have seen this ad for The Beatles on iTunes five times along the way. Somehow it felt really good to see the fabs up there as if there were a new release coming out this week.
Big wonderful installation art by Richard Serra. This is the kind of stuff you really can’t fully appreciate unless you’re there. It changes the way you feel about yourself in space.
I started walking the maze within the sculpture without any expectations. It was actually pretty wonderful. Reminded me of 20 Mule Train Canyon in Death Valley, being surrounded by a color.
I wanted to go to LACMA to see the William Eggleston exhibit, which closed on Sunday. His work, especially from the Los Alamos series, makes me so happy. I just stood there grinning at the photo of sunshine filtered through a glass on an airline seat back table…I have tried to get that shot. Really captures the joy that flying used to engender. I realized that I’d seen and fallen in love with a couple of his images at a Getty exhibit a few years ago.
Hydra said a few of his photos reminded him of some of mine. Very nice to hear. I think my nephew DBean’s work is sometimes Eggleston-esque, too. Thrilling in the every day.
Of course, photos weren’t allowed in the photography exhibit, but we had free rein in the antiquities section. This statue of Horus seemed so familiar to me. Then I realized that this was a bird’s internal-eye view of how Dodger sees himself. The little prince.
We headed home, full of art and sunshine. Great day!