2020

This is my New Year's post.

On New Year's Day, Carl (aka The Bird Photographer) and I took Sophie to Solstice Canyon in Malibu because we read that it had an accessible path. It did have an accessible path, and the two of us took turns pushing Sophie up the steep grades, stopping every now and then to admire the yellow leaves, the bird calls and the grass-covered hills in the distance. I would have liked a view, but you had to do some serious, non-accessible climbing to see the Pacific, so Carl and I planned to come back another day. Afterward, we stopped at a fish shack restaurant on the PCH (that's Pacific Coast Highway for you non-Californians) and ate fried shrimp, grilled swordfish, grilled catfish, french fries, Cajun rice, coleslaw and salad. The restaurant was more "accessible" than accessible, so when we left, Carl had to make a path through the hordes of people waiting in line. He was helped by one guy who yelled out, "Watch your backs, folks! Coming through!" It must be the New Year kind of thing and all people filled with the resolutionary spirit because all the people parted, smiled, said encouraging things like No problem! How ya doing! Happy New Year! as we made our way through.

Here's the thing. It's been a hard year. It's been a hard decade. Hell, it's been a hard couple of decades.

But then there's now.

Who would have thought that on the first day of the year 2020 I would be divorced, walking a path with my daughter and a man with whom I've fallen deeply in love? Sophie's father -- my ex -- is devoted to Sophie, as she is to him, and I am grateful for that. I will say bluntly, though, that I had absolutely no expectation of finding happiness with anyone else. I had the usual post-fifty fears, both superficial and complex, but, frankly, the real concern was over who in their right mind would take up with someone whose life is a three-ring circus? There is baggage and then there's -- well -- baggage. I'm not saying Sophie is baggage, but the world of disability is not for the faint of heart. Sophie's made me who I am. Carl has a massive heart, and I am filled to bursting with gratitude.

New Year

Sunrise, Salton Sea, 2017

To the New Year

With what stillness at last

you appear in the valley

your first sunlight reaching down

to touch the tips of a few

high leaves that do not stir

as though they had not noticed

and did not know you at all

then the voice of a dove calls

from far away in itself

to the hush of the morning

so this is the sound of you

here and now whether or not

anyone hears it this is

where we have come with our age

our knowledge such as it is

and our hopes such as they are

invisible before us

untouched and still possible

W.S. Merwin

Bring it On

Happy New Year, stalwart Readers!

It's as good a day as any to post a couple photos of Sophie, the source, the inspiration, for so much of my years, my art, my life.

I hesitate -- as always -- to jinx it, for isn't it the height of egotism to imagine that we have any hand beyond the obvious in the course of events even as we emphatically insist that we do?

Sophie is well. She hasn't had any seizures to speak of since we got back from the hospital. She's incredibly alert and responsive, although she still can't walk well and has lost a lot of her motor (both fine and gross) planning abilities. There's no miracle here, I don't imagine, or even conspiracies of the gods. There is the reduction of Onfi that I began again the day after we got back from the hospital, and a resolve on my part that is quite literally pulled up out of the deepest and darkest recesses of my being where fear masks mystery. There is the addition of CBDA that Dr. Bonni suggested* when I appealed to her to help, again. And again she helped and I leapt into the unknown and it seems that Sophie is responding to the cannabinoid.

What is CBDA? Cannabidiolic acid is a chemical compound found in the resin glands, or trichomes, of raw cannabis plants. "Raw" means unheated and untreated. It is fresh flower and leaves taken directly from the plant. It's the precursor to CBD. Sophie takes it in tincture form, a tiny, tiny amount, along with the CBD and ACDC that is part of her daily cannabis medicine regime.

This is what Dr. Bonni told me:

There are only a few studies of CBDA and of course none in humans (seriously, this has got to change), but it appears to be a "key" for the 5-HT1A receptor, one of our serotonin receptors. Studies show potent anti-inflammatory effects by blocking COX-2 enzyme that produces inflammatory compounds and anti-nausea/vomiting effects through 5-HT1A receptor. CBDA also blocked a certain breast cancer cell from migrating by blocking chemical signals sent by the cancer cells. Interestingly, the 5-HT1A receptor when stimulated can affect the vagus nerve. Maybe it is working for seizures as a natural vagal stimulator? Based on what we know 5-HT1A receptors do, CBDA as an activator of this receptor, should be anti-anxiety, anti-depressant, reduce fatigue, decrease appetite, decrease blood pressure and more -- maybe we all need to juice this plant with our kale!

I don't know about ya'll, but I'm going to consume less in 2018 and create more. I hope to be more patient with darkness, to not despair and be more grateful for light, not take it for granted because both are ephemeral.

Bring on 2018, Readers!

Happy New Year!












* If you haven't yet, order Dr. Bonni Goldstein's book Cannabis Revealed. It's an excellent resource for all things related to cannabis medicine. Disclosure: I get a small percentage of the proceeds as I helped Dr. Bonni with the stories of her patients.

Happy New Year 2015!

I had a small party last night, and the last friend didn't leave until after 2:00 in the morning. I cleaned up the mess, checked on my chicks (one in Switzerland, one at a friend's house and one persistently awake) and fell asleep around 3. I drank a few glasses of champagne but this morning I feel as if I drank a few bottles. That's mainly because Sophie was up nearly all night, and while I left her to her own devices for most of it, I periodically woke up to check on her from three until around six o'clock when it became the day. So, 2015. I'd make a resolution or two if I believed in them, but if there's anything I've learned in my fifty-one years of revolving around the sun it's that my intentions are just that, and while I might set them, send them out into the shadows of the future, they'll probably not return as I intended. So, everything is the same and everything is different.

Today I resolve to not get dressed, to lie around and eat slice after slice of white bread toast.

I love the new year -- it really does afford possibility, doesn't it?

Happy New Year to everyone!

Caving before the Epiphany

The Christmas Shop our house is officially disassembled.

Peace reigns.

MMXIV

graffiti artist unknown*** 

Today's no different than yesterday, really, other than it's 2014, four new numbers, a new year, an imposition. Dirt lies in three pyramids in our back yard -- some of that dirt, I'm certain, unearthed for the first time in nearly a century. I fancied something discovered while the men were digging -- pottery, perhaps, or arrowheads, some fine bones, a skull, even oil. The men filled plastic buckets with big brown clumps of it, and they filled wheelbarrows, trundled it toward the pile. The men smile when I come out to stand at the edge, look down. They wear long-sleeved dress shirts despite the heat and the swing of the pick-ax. They speak no English. I imagine they have only recently crossed the border from Mexico, picked up clothes at a Goodwill. They are the Italians and Irish of yesterday who built the bridges and mined the minerals, lay the tracks and dug the wells, raised the buildings, built the country. The pyramids in my backyard are dirt. There are rocks and roots. The clay pipe lies exposed at the bottom of a seven foot trench, the dirt around it clean of anything primitive or even civilized. The trees that grow alongside the trench are a deep green. Their secret is their roots, twisted and preternaturally strong, or naturally so. They've crept through dirt, worked their way through cracks in clay, pushed into man-made cylinders, a relentless search, reaching toward water like fingers and eyes toward light. They've nourished themselves on waste, channeled what's left back up through wood and out toward branches and leaves, thick and glossy.

It's a new year, and we're fourteen years into an age. Our minds are thoughts, our thoughts are thoughts, only, just.










***Henry and I saw this on La Brea as we walked home from breakfast yesterday. Henry thought it might be Banksy, but I doubted it. What do you think? Anyone know? Steve Reed?

Letting Go of 2013 - Day Six of Gratitude

Ocean Park, Los Angeles

Jeneva set the tone for me and provided the leadership for the past six days to eke out gratitude for the final week of 2014. To tell you the truth, it wasn't that difficult, and my final gratitude post is going to be an exhilarated kick, a slammed door and no looking back. And I'm grateful for that.

1. I'm grateful for my strong and healthy constitution.
2. I'm grateful for the card that Ms. Moon sent me of the Airstream trailer on the beach that now graces my blog and that is testament to our friendship.
3. I'm grateful for the opportunity to go to the movies on a Saturday afternoon, especially when it's a perfect movie about love, longing, regret and is directed by and stars Ralph Fiennes.
4. I'm grateful for my perfect score of loving bloggers in person as well as on the page and for getting to personally meet one of my favorites today, Brittany Tuttle.
5. I'm grateful to live in Los Angeles and down the street from LACMA, and I'm grateful for art that invigorates my eye and calms my soul.
6. I'm grateful to slam the door on 2013, kick up my heels and not look back.

December 31st

All my undone actions wander
naked across the calendar,

a band of skinny hunter-gatherers,
blown snow scattered here and there,

stumbling toward a future
folded in the New Year I secure

with a pushpin: January's picture
a painting from the 17th century,

a still-life: skull and mirror,
spilled coinpurse and a flower.

Richard Hoffman (1949- )
via Emblem (Barrow Street Press, 2011)

New Year's Resolution

Normally, I think they're hogwash, made in earnest to be broken just as earnestly. I sort of like the idea of picking a word to guide one's days, a word that is powerful, and whenever I try to imagine a word that might really speak to me, I think of the word:

CHOICE

as in choosing to be happy or some such other earnestness.

This year, though, I am making a New Year's Resolution, too, and I plan on pursuing it this very week. Here it is:

I resolve to procure medical marijuana for Sophie and give it a try.

I resolve to procure medical marijuana for Sophie and give it a whirl.

I resolve to procure medical marijuana for Sophie and give it a go.

Thank goodness we have a choice in California.

Reader, what is your word or resolution this year?

Have One

I hope the last day of the year is a perfect one for you. I have no resolutions or wise words to offer, only gratitude for your community.

Perfect Day

Just a Perfect Day,

Drink Sangria in the Park,

And then later, when it gets dark,

We go home.

Just a perfect day,

Feed animals in the zoo

Then later, a movie, too,

And then home.

Oh, it's such a perfect day,

I'm glad I spent it with you.

Oh such a perfect day,

You just keep me hanging on,

You just keep me hanging on.

Just a perfect day,

Problems left all alone

Weekenders on our own.

It's such fun.

Just a perfect day

You made me forget myself.

I thought I was someone else,

Someone good.

Oh, it's such a perfect day

I'm glad I spent it with you

Oh such a perfect day

You just keep me hanging on,

You just keep me hanging on.

You're going to reap just what you sow.

You're going to reap just what you sow,

You're going to reap just what you sow,

You're going to reap just what you sow.

-- Lou Reed

The boys set off the last of the New Year's poppers this morning

before leaving for school. Even I cheered!

A Proper Happy New Year's Day

Please have a perfect day (thanks, Lou Reed) but you MUST watch this:



Just A Perfect Day,
Drink Sangria In The Park,
And Then Later, When It Gets Dark, 
We Go Home.
Just A Perfect Day,
Feed Animals In The Zoo
Then Later, A Movie, Too,
And Then Home.

Oh It's Such A Perfect Day, 
I'm Glad I Spent It With You.
Oh Such A Perfect Day,
You Just Keep Me Hanging On,
You Just Keep Me Hanging On.

Just A Perfect Day,
Problems All Left Alone,
Weekenders On Our Own.
It's Such Fun.
Just A Perfect Day,
You Made Me Forget Myself.
I Thought I Was Someone Else,
Someone Good.

Oh It's Such A Perfect Day, 
I'm Glad I Spent It With You.
Oh Such A Perfect Day,
You Just Keep Me Hanging On,
You Just Keep Me Hanging On.

You're Going To Reap Just What You Sow,
You're Going To Reap Just What You Sow,
You're Going To Reap Just What You Sow,
You're Going To Reap Just What You Sow...

happy new year!