What I Love

1. When Bob Dylan plays the harmonica, especially on the album Blood on the Tracks, particularly the end of the song You're a Big Girl Now
2. First two and last two lines of novels: "Yes, of course, if it's fine tomorrow," said Mrs. Ramsay. "But you'll have to be up with the lark," she added. / It was done; it was finished. Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision.
3. Cheese, baguette, olives, dark chocolate
4. The taste of bourbon the heat as it goes down
5. Your dark eyes, full-on then closed, kissing them on tiptoe
6. Lying awake in bed in the morning, just after dawn
7. Banter
8. My neighbors, particularly those that share antipathy toward the McMansion developers and send me funny texts
9. The opening scene of Wim Wenders' Wings of Desire and Federico Fellini's La Dolce Vita
10. The perfection of both lyrics and melody of Joni Mitchell's Both Sides Now

The Times They are A Changing

Well, I climbed up on a stage in the Universal Hilton ballroom and spoke to a crowd of a few hundred at the Realm of Caring Foundation benefit tonight, and it was fine. I was pretty charged up, my pulse raced and my knees shook behind the podium, but I looked right down into the faces of the great and almighty neurology department of UCLA and spoke my truth. And it felt fine. I was so grateful that those women and men would even come and listen, to tell you the truth. It was such a contrast from the folks up at the Epilepsy Pipeline Conference who I'm now convinced couldn't stand the likes of me. Tant pis pour elles, as the French idiomatic expression goes. I also met some wonderful people with whom I've corresponded on Facebook, saw my new best pal, Cindy, met her son and his seizure dog and sat with one of my best friends in the whole world who bought a ticket and came out to support us. I love you, Shannon! Thank you to the kind and dedicated people at the Epilepsy Foundation of Greater Los Angeles who sponsored my seat at their table, too.

An amazing vocalist named Chris Pierce performed -- I'd never heard of him, but wow. Here's a video of him singing as an opener for B.B. King. He sang the same song tonight while photos of the beautiful children of cannabis played behind him. Oh, and I got to talk again with Joel Stanley -- I know some of you are wildly jealous, and you should be.

The times they are a-changin'.





Speaking of times, I took that photo above around the corner from my house. It's advertising the California Dreams/Laurel Canyon exhibit at the Grammy Museum downtown, and that's an old photo of Joni Mitchell on the left. I'm perhaps too excited about this exhibit and wish that ya'll who like this sort of thing would consider flying out to Los Angeles and going with me.

Here's a fun thing to watch that might entice you:

Life Lived By Sayings on Beads on Your Bracelet

I figure it's just as good a place as any to get your wisdom and a hell of a lot better than those silly blocks of wood with words to live by that are everywhere, now.

Reader, what are you living your life by today?

Oh, Canada

So, I received a hilarious email from a reader today that I won't share here, but suffice it to say that it gave me an enormous laugh, and in lieu of a good-bye post as I leave for Canada** later this afternoon, I'll leave you with this song of Joni Mitchell's. To N who sent me the email, Joni is one part of the Holy Trinity that includes Bob Dylan and Van Morrison:















**I am going on a one-week respite trip, awarded to me through a grant from the organization caregifted.org. I am beyond grateful.

Ice-cream castles in the air

I was typing at my computer last night and heard deep breathing, in and out, somewhat muffled, labored. I thought it was The Husband, snoring, in the living room and kept typing until a few minutes passed, when I got up from my desk in irritation and stood in the hallway to listen. The sound was coming from Sophie's room so I walked the three steps down the hall, opened her door and saw her lying face-down on her bed, the now-guttural sounds a frightening intake and out. When I flipped her over, her face was red, but she remained asleep, her eyes closed and her breathing quickly returned to normal. Was it a seizure? Had she had a silent seizure that left her face down, and when she began breathing normally again it was with a pillow in her face? Who the hell knows? Who the hell knows?

A very dear friend of mine has a beautiful sister, barely sixty years old, who is in hospice this week. Her family surrounds her with more love than one can imagine, but their mother has already buried two of her four children and my friend will have lost all of her siblings and who the hell knows?


The storm on the east coast whipped several cities and has already caused ten deaths. Living under brilliant blue skies and blinding sun here in Los Angeles feels like living on another planet. People in our country still argue incessantly about climate change and whether it's contributing to the increasing volatility of weather patterns. I'm on the side of trusting the majority of scientists and this who the hell knows would be directed at those who debunk the science. Who the hell knows?

Last night, I sat up in bed, sweating, still stuck in the throes of a nightmare where my wallet was stolen. That was all -- my wallet was stolen -- yet, I was bathed in sweat and terror. Who the hell knows?

I've looked at clouds from both sides now

From up and down, and still somehow

It's clouds' illusions I recall.

I really don't know clouds at all.

As I dressed Sophie for school today, the lyrics to Joni Mitchell's song played over and over in my head. Are they the most perfect ones of nearly any song I can think of with a melody that tears one's heart to pieces? Who the hell knows?