Eating Solo

I've been eating solo for a whole week because Tom has been out of town. If I published a cookbook of my diet, this art (found on the sea wall today) would be the cover.

I'm finding less and less beach glass. I'm wondering if beach glass season is drawing to a close. What seems to be all the rage now are those purple razor clam shells that are hinged open. The beach is littered with them.

Friday Nite

Found 9/1

I'll See You in September

I drew my 500th graffiti last night. Here are some from August. Facebook plastered a notice on my profile page saying that soon it would no longer support profile boxes from applications like Graffiti. I'm not sure what that means, but I hope to make it to at least 5,000.

Happy Birthday, Walter

Wally, I didn't find ONE piece of sea glass this evening. But I did find this birthday cake for you on the sea wall, and also the little tree below.

(Wally is my nickname for Larry.)

Fall Coming In on a Red Kite

The days are definitely getting shorter. And only five pieces of beach glass to be found this evening! We're sure that Peter hoovered it all up before we could get to it.


But he and Anne made a floral delivery earlier, so all is forgiven.

Otoño?

All of a sudden it's too dark to take photos of what we find on our walks by the time we get back home. Does this mean fall is coming? It's hard to tell here.

So this treasure was actually found yesterday as we loped through the heavy fog.

A birthday is coming up at the end of this month and this box needs to get packed and hauled to the P.O.

Panic Button

Worried about how you'll ever get back on schedule? This panic button can be found at the Unocal station on La Playa Street.

I found this glass and the heart full of holes on our walk today.





Has anyone seen I Am Love (Tilda Swinton)? What did you think of it?





Before we left for our walk, I e-mailed Jean. I asked her about something she had said at lunch:





Why do you think it is that we have to write in order to know what we're thinking? You said that and I think it's true. Talking works, too, sometimes, but why doesn't just THINKING work?



She replied:


maybe cuz:  thinking isnt necessarily organized----but writing is.  writing is, in fact, organized thinking.  organized so that others can read it and understand your thinking.  grammar itself--as in just using a period to end a sentence, to, in fact, DECIDE when a sentence is ended---is the ultimate organizing tool.  also, the physical act of putting fingers on keys must produce some kind of synaptic whatever.  talking is good, but then you need someone to talk to.  writing is best.  writing does not reveal thinking instantaneously.  it comes--sometimes---as an accidental part of the process.   writing is very emotional. maybe the silence of it helps.   thinking doesnt work because we keep running the old toxic tapes in our heads, it is circular and useless. unless one is einstein i guess.

My Dinner With Jean

left to right: me, Jean Gonick

It was lunch really, but it was so late in the day that it might as well have been dinner. We ate at this wonderful place called Sapore Italiano. We had a great time. We talked about boys, writing, drugs, family, food, doctors, shrinks, and the suicide net they're putting up on the GG Bridge.

When Jean warned me ahead of time that she didn't want to have her picture taken, I struck a deal with her. "OK," I says. "If you bring a photo of Mack, I'll leave you alone." (You remember Mack: the born-again Christian Republican cowboy who refuses to marry her and refers to people with shrinks as big crybabies.)

She agreed. I sat down. She handed me the photo. How should I put this? WOW. That's all I can say, and I'll say it again. WOW.