my occasional musings on life, love, art, perfume ... what else is there?


Lapin Mort, Lapin Mort!*

Ingmar Bergman
July 14, 1918 - July 30, 2007

a scene from The Seventh Seal
*Yes, I stole it from Doug. He has too many good lines.


Purple Potato Eaters

So we are proud supporters of organic, locally grown food.

Every Saturday morning, we trundle down to the University District farmers market where we pick up our CSA share (we support a particular farm by paying in
advance for produce we receive each week during the summer).

And it helps our diet, I think. When I have the energy to prepare all the vegetables in the bag.

For instance, this week I need to find a way to get us to eat purple potatoes.

It doesn't sound like it should be that hard, but for some reason I have an aversion to blue food.

But, by God, I have two pounds of purple potatoes and they're going to get eaten. I'm thinking potato salad. I'm just hoping the blue in the potatoes doesn't turn the boiled eggs green.

Shades of Dr. Seuss. Literally.


A Jury of Your Peers

This week I fulfilled my civic responsibility ... of jury duty.
Although I never got as far as voir dire, I did sit in a room for two days with approximately 60 other individuals whose lives temporarily stopped for the chance to balance the scales of justice.
I haven't much in terms of profundity re this experience. But I do have a visual vignette:
When I arrived at the Regional Justice Center in a far-south suburb of Seattle, I came in the back entrance, where I saw a crowd of mostly people-of-color standing in line waiting to get in.

I veered toward that entrance until I saw the armed guards motioning people away ... and I saw the sign above that entrance that read "Detention Processing." Apparently these people were lining up to be admitted to the jail located in the facility.

I walked further toward the building, this time to the front, and saw a predominantly white crowd filing through the security barriers, where everyone was scanned for weapons and any other contraband -- to be admitted to the Jury area.

For the past two days, I spent a mostly pleasant time with people who looked a lot like me, with fairly similar lives to the one I lead. Some richer, some poorer, some more or less educated.

But I didn't meet or observe anyone who would have been a more likely candidate for that line weaving into the Detention area.

What about a jury of your peers? Does that happen today? Can it happen?


“It’s just fashion. Is it? Is it really?”*

Marc Jacobs Fall 2007 ... echoing the most elegant of the '30s. (I love this look.)

Does fashion predict or presage historical events?

(That is, the '30s were the period of Fascist incubation prior to World War II.)

*attributed, I think, to Miranda Priestly (who is supposedly Anna Wintour, editor of Vogue) in The Devil Wears Prada.


Lady Bird Johnson 1912 - 2007

The eyes of Texas are upon you,
All the live long day.
The eyes of Texas are upon you,
You cannot get away.
Do not think you can escape them,
At night, or early in the morn'.
The eyes of Texas are upon you,
'Till Gabriel blows his horn!



I need some.


If It Be Possible, Let This Cup Pass From Me*

*Matthew 26:39


I Dream of Breakfast

Saturated fat-laden breakfast. Yum.
painting by Juan Gris, 1914


Happy 4th!


Honey, I Shrunk the Cellphone**

**see me for important new information on why it isn't a good idea for Jim's cellphone to experience the "Super Wash" cycle.

Pretty In Pink

Rabbit, rabbit!

Silicon artwork (featured on an integrated circuit) microphotographed by Karl E. Deckart