I just finished reading ‘The Pumpkin Eater’ by Penelope Mortimer. The book holds up well more than fifty years later. She was a fascinating person, too.
This weekend is all about colour and pride here in SF, but lately, I’ve been drawn to working in black and white a lot. I’m enjoying seeing life in contrasts.
Last weekend’s Midnites for Maniacs was an evening devoted to the work of French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet. I’d not heard his name prior to last week, but now I’m a big fan.
I could wax lyrical about loving three day weekends (and I do!), but here’s three other things…
The time has come.
I’ve made the switch.
I have crossed over to the Dark Side.
Today has been a hard day. I was off kilter before I even woke up. I left home without my glasses. I cried on BART over a most unbelievably sad podcast. The first email of the day was one of those passive aggressive critical emails that makes you want to upend your desk and walk out for good. And then I saw the date: 05/05/15. It all made sense. It’s been exactly ten years since we lost our Grandpa. Pa. And whilst daily life has marched on and the sadness abated to a dull hum, it never truly leaves you. So tonight when I returned home, I pulled out my Kikki.K box filled with all my sentimental things: photos, notes, trinkets. I made a mental note to bring these things out more often, to surround myself with memories and more of my past. They shouldn’t be hidden away like they seem to be right now. I poured over the photos of a man who was once a giant to me and strong as an ox. …