this week in the miniature sketchbook i’ve been painting vegetables. i’m trying to hypnotize myself into eating more of them.
i don’t recommend eating any toadstools like these anytime soon though.
until i took this photo and looked at it i had no idea… none. such a fine pairing!
i would like to paint more eggplantz. such a big glossy thing.
let me get sketchy with my big .8 pen. ahhhh that was nice.
there was a pink sky.
and a cat.
a splendid cup of aromatic tea from last summer’s trip to a bainbridge island yarn shoppe.
the knife-leaf acacia is blooming.
we’ve had no rain but it’s been bitterly cold by LA standards. the old windows in the classroom keeps things rather blowy. we all wear coats, gloves, scarves, hoods all day long.
at home i turn on all the heating devices, add thigh high leg warmers, and keep bundled up.
it is v.v.v. nice to walk in the hood on a cool sunny day with a jacket and scarf. i don’t recall it getting this cold last winter. hmmm…
and then on saturday i shot out of bed at 4:30ish and trixie and i hit the road. off we went into the soft black of morning.
i opened the moon roof and rode under a canopy of stars.
all the way to here.
as i came into ventura and got my first glimpse of the ocean, dawn was still 25 minutes away. the water was white and looked like an enormous pearl.
soon i was at hendry’s and the sun had risen a tiny bit. the white of the water gave way to grey, lavendar, pink, blue. i had an urge to roll in the white sand on my back like a dog.
but instead i walked on and on and on. all the way to a blue cottage perched on a cliff.
i sat on their old stairs in the warmth of the sun.
took big lungfuls of cold air.
found glistening treasures there on the sand. for me!
the air was so cold but i was so happy to be alive. awake. HERE. in this place. mostly alone on the beach. that’s why i like to go at dawn. you get the place all to yourself.
and the birds.
pam loves the heart shaped rocks and i love to tease her about them. but i usually take pics and send them her way.
see if you can spy the little songbird on the top of the dried grass. singing away as the sun started to rise.
higher higher higher
soon there are long shadows and the water turns bluer.
some of the oyster shells light up like lanterns.
after i left the beach i drove around to my old haunts in montecito to make sure they were all still there after the devastating mudslides that claimed 21 lives in january. 1 or 2 are still missing and presumed dead. the damage is unbelievable. all those tons of mud and giant boulders will probably take years to clean up. the progress thus far is substantial, but seeing how high the mud reached into the trees, over bridges, through fences, and poured into homes was incredible. i didn’t expect it to still be so bad this many weeks later, but that many tons of mud takes many humans with many shovels and bulldozers a long long time to remove. crews were everywhere hard at work powerwashing cement, corralling boulders, moving debris, cleaning up mud.
i stopped at pierre la fond for a roll and coffee, sat out in my usual spot on the courtyard to write in my journal and process, think. dropped by the tecolote bookstore to give penny a big hug, but they weren’t open yet. went by josephine’s cottage i rented back in december. it narrowly missed the wide swaths of mud that slammed into houses mere blocks away. some parts of montecito look like they always have, but other parts are battered. houses demolished. the cottage i’ve rented a few times on cota lane looked as it ever did. nice to see some areas untouched.
i wanted to see what had happened with my own eyes, but i couldn’t bring myself to take a single photo. it feels like hallowed ground.
a write-up on some of the people who lost their lives.
if you’re familiar with montecito and want to know exactly which homes were demolished or which areas affected HERE is an excellent interactive map.
hope you’re well dears. enjoying all your moments big and small. see you soon. xo