gleanings

I went through the used books I bought yesterday quickly. Most of the time, the preface and or the introduction is very interesting. It gives the author's background, the reason for the book and the process. It is like a director's cut and is very interesting and insightful.

From the book, 'So you're going to Paris - and if I were going with you these are the things I'd invite you to do', by Clara Laughlin. From it I gather it is a guide book; she's supposed to be the 'Rick Steves' of her time. The book was first published in 1924 and all told, had 2 subsequent reprinting. Those days they travel by steam boat over the Atlantic.

'Since our second preface went into print and circulation I have had so many weeks during two Springs and Summers in Paris, to ferret out new suggestions for you, learn how the older ones were serving you. We seem to be such a family- you readers of these books and I! - because of your delightful attitude toward our adventures together.'

Some of her advice then is still applicable today.

2) Go abroad to learn how things are done outside America, not to declaim to others how much better everything is done at home.

19) Keep promising yourself as you travel that you're going to read about the trip when you get home. And when you get home, KEEP THE PROMISE.

I've always heard about Anais Nin and her diaries and her relationship with Henry Miller. She never wrote anything other than her diaries. Some people question the wisdom of that. I started reading the only book I ever bought of hers, 'The diary of Anais Nin Vol 2 1934-1939 and I'm enthralled. She is a fascinating woman, so full of life and her life opens up in her diaries. Wow! Have you read Anais Nin?

'January 1937 - I mastered the mechanisms of life the better to bend it to the will of the dream. With hammer and nails, paint, soap, money, typewriter, cookbook, douche bags, I created a dream. That is why I renounce violence and tragedy. I have made poetry out of science, I took psychoanalysis and made a myth of it. I mastered poverty and restrictions; I lived adroitly, intelligently, critically; I sewed and mended, all for the sake of the dream.'

'The Little Madeleine' by Mrs Robert Henrey is a tale about the real Madeleine, growing up in Paris in the 1900's; of the struggles of the poor French people who moved out of their villages to struggle in poor Parisien neighborhoods. It is not the same as the cartoon of the cute French girl, little Madeleine. Another fascinating book.

'A life of her own' by Emelie Carles is an English translation of the French book, 'Une soupe aux herbes sauvages (A Wild Herb Soup) about Emelie Carles, a French girl born at the turn of the century in the harsh, primitive land that was France's Appalachia of the time.

'With the first nice day of Spring, when the mountainside is drenched with melted snow, I like to stretch out on my deck chair on the terrace beside my house, Le Vivier. A little while later, down by the river, I make good use of my walk gathering the plants I will need for my soup of wild herbs. I don't have to go far. I need only bend down. This one is rib grass and over there, wild sorrel, tall drouille with its broad smooth leaves, nettle or salsify, dandelion, lamb's lettuce, a small creeping thistle we call chonzio, a milky plant, sedge, yarrow, chalabrei with its broadly scalloped leaves and white flowers, tetragonia or wild spinach, some langue bogne of the light pink flowers and slim bright green leaves, a sage leaf and a sprig of chive. Then I add a touch of garlic, a few potatoes or a handful of rice and I get a rich and delicious soup. To make it come out right, you have to watch the proportions. Not more than a bit of each herb is required; no single one should stand out, for if it does the soup may prove inedible - too bitter, too acid or too bland. Such is my wild herb soup. All my life I have lived where I was born, in the mountain country around Briancon. And now I have so many different things to tell, funny, picturesque or cruel, that from the beginning to end, they serve as the ingredients for another kind of wild herb soup.'

Wow! What incredible people these were! And in the days before modern technology.

inspiration 1

While Europe inspires me most, I can't be there all the time. I have to let my back yard inspire me. So I drove to the OC, Orange County, to a little city call Orange. I knew it because I used to live there. There's a great used bookstore there; I've spent a lot of time and money there. They have two locations in the OC, in the city of Orange and in Huntington Beach. They have a website also, ebookman. I was early; imagine waiting for a used bookstore to open, only I would but there are others; I'm in good company. I love this used bookstore; it's bigger than most and they are always expanding.

I found a stack of books on France including one printed in 1924 called, 'So you're going to Paris - and if I were going with you these are the things I'd invite you to do.' Talk about a very long title, it's a no no in today's publishing world. This book was revised and printed three times.

I actually wanted to read Anais Nin and Henry Miller. I asked one of the girls working there who was busy re stacking books, 'where is Anais Nin and Henry Miller?' She showed me where their books were. I bought 'The diary of Anais Nin Vol two 1934-1939.' When I finish reading this, I'm going back to the Bookman for more. It's been a great morning, I scored some great used books.

I used to live in this little city. It is a great place to go antiquing. There are lots of antique malls and garden shops. My favorite haunt is the 'Victoria company' owned by my friend, Donna. She let me photograph her shop but not her. I told her the pictures will appear on my blog and I'm going to tell everyone to go antiquing in Orange and to visit my friend, Donna at her very delightful little store that is crammed to the rafters with great stuff. A lot of the things I have in my house came from her store. She's been there for years and I've shopped at her store for years even though I don't live in the OC anymore. I still make the trip there from Los Angeles where I now reside.

I can't wait to read all my books. What a beautiful and inspiring day it's been.

letting go

AS I write, I'm staring at the peonies in the glass vase in front of me. I've been trying to extend their lives, it's been a week, they're on their last breath but I'm not ready to let them go.... yet! It will be another year before I see them again. What a long year it is going to be. Their appearance is so brief, I can only enjoy their company for so brief a moment.

I remember hiking in one of the ski resorts in Utah one year. A friend and I would go up the ski runs in summer and hike up them. The whole mountain side would be filled with wild flowers. We'd bring along walking sticks to frighten away any rattlers that might be hiding in the tall grass. It was lovely. We'd hike most weekends till the end of summer and early fall.

I remember one fall morning, my friend couldn't make it, so I went alone. The trees had already turned colors and they were dropping their leaves. The grass and flowers had all died and brown dirt was showing through. Everything was brown and bleak. I thought, 'what a dreadful sight'. Then it occurred to me, not so..... I remember the beautiful flowers all over the mountain side, memories of a beautiful summer past. I mused to myself, pretty soon the snow will start falling and bury everything except the fir trees and the bare cottonwoods. I can almost hear the revelry of skiers as they barrow down these same mountain side on their skis or snowboards. I would be one of them, each one of us looking forward excitedly to freshly fallen snow - 'powder' we call it. I remember those glorious 'powder' days when we ski on freshly fallen snow. I remember my own glee, my unreserved squealing as I echo the same joy felt by kids on their snow boards. There was no age difference, we were together in the spirit of the moment.

As I look again at the stark landscape, I began to think, it is a beautiful sight by the mere fact of memories of summer and the anticipation of winter and winter's revelry.

I will have the peonies for a few more days, then they will be a memory. I'll move on to other things and I'll look forward to seeing them again.

Emerson said, 'we cannot part with our friends. We cannot let our angels go. We do not see that they only go out that archangels may come in.' We must let the good go so that the great may come in.

l

la vie en rose

I'm blogging to strains of Edith Piaf singing 'la vie en rose'. I've heard this song when I was a little girl. I shall go see the movie when it comes out.

What if I do get a chance to live in France for a year? What would I do? Where would I live? Would I stay there the whole time or would I move around? 'Everyone has two homelands, their own and La France' - Thomas Jefferson.

Where?

Maybe in Provence, around Apt or Roussillon, the haute Provence, or the Luberon, would be glorious places, to follow the rhythms of the land. To observe and to write on my own observations, to draw and paint every day, to eat bread, cheese, and fruits every meal and to drink wine. It will be a good year indeed. In between, I would do a little traveling to the other areas of France, to Ceres at the time of cherries, to see lavender fields in bloom, to Paris for breakfasts, to London to visit relatives, to Josselin to see cousin, Beci's French home. (my English cousin).

'I had a small room with a paper of rosebuds, an old bed like a rowing boat, an old walnut chest of drawers, a chair and a rickety table. The sheets smell of soap and French lavenders, the curtain wave looped back at the window', Bosco.

This is really nostalgic. I try to live like this at home. I don't have much furniture - a pine dining table from Pottery Barn with 6 mismatched chairs, a cheap made in China iron bed with a used mattress given to me by my brother, an old coffee table from the thrift store and a couch (circa 1960) from a garage sale. My office is a converted garage and all these are in a little cottage that I own. (approx worth $900,000) Well, I'm hardly schlepping it. I believe in real value like real estate, stocks and bank Cd's.

'Oh these farm gardens, with their lovely big red Provencal roses and the vines and fig trees'. It is all a poem and the eternal bright sunshine too. In spite of which the foliage remains green - no cows on these little farms'. - van gogh.

I don't blame myself for this nostalgic moments. Even van gogh fell in love with Provence. Picasso moved there from Spain.

'My house here is painted the yellow colour of fresh butter on the outside with glaringly green shutters; it stands in the full sunlight in a square which has a green garden with plane trees, oleanders and acacias. And it is completely whitewashed inside and the floor is made of red bricks. And over it there is the intensely blue sky. In this I can live and breathe, meditate and paint.' van gogh.

One can hardly see the sky in Los Angeles because of the smog. Some mornings when I walk to Venice beach, I see a slightly blue sky meeting the blue Pacific ocean with the grey sand in the foreground. It is so empty that there's a certain beauty about it. On clear days I can see Santa Monica and Pacific Palisades but on days that are foggy, there are only three elements visible - the sky, the sea and the sand. When the surf is up, there's a tinge of white as the waves crash violently on the sand making a brilliant spectacle.

Make no mistake, I love California. I love the opportunities of making money here. As Peggy Noonan said in her column in WSJ (5/26/07) 'where in the world would any immigrant working hard and before long own a car, a home, a business and investments?'

Memorial day

We had our BBQ last night. While there are 7 of us siblings, only 3 lives in Southern California. So it's me and my 2 brothers, 2 sisters in law and 2 teenage nieces. It was very pleasant and relaxing. We had ribs, a Martha Stewart recipe which was very good. The pictures show one of the deserts being made, summer pudding, an old family standby. I love to make it, it's so easy. This time I used only blueberries, but one can use a combination of berries- strawberries, raspberries, any berries. It's very English, they use mulberries, we can get mulberries but it's kind of rare and costs too much. Boil the berries with some sugar, I don't use too much. That's why the family loves it because it wasn't too sweet. Line a pudding bowl with plastic wrap, cut up enough white bread, crust cut out, no crust. Ladle the juice over the bread, try to coat the bread. It's kind of hard, I still have white bread peeking through, it's not suppose to. Ladle the rest of the berries, reserve some juice. Cover with more bread and pour more juice over it. Cover with plastic and a saucer with a can or heavy object over it and refrigerate. To serve, simply unmold and eat with pouring cream. The family loved it over the French macarons. I walked to the corner bakery, they bake French things, macaroons and canelles. I bought some French macarons but they didn't like it. They found them too sweet.

I have a small French community living in the neighborhood. On Sundays at the framers' market, I can eat French crepes or there's another family that makes French omelets. It's fun to live here. There are a few French bakeries, their repertoire is not very big but it's enough to satisfy the nostalgia for a little French food.

Favorite things

On top of the list- Hilltowns and walled cities of Europe. It reminds me of childhood stories of knights in shining armor and beautiful damsels in distress. I, especially love the walled city of Carcassonne in France but there's nothing romantic about it's history. It was customary to build walled cities and towns on hills to ward off the enemy. In Carcassonne, a group of Cathars were holed up there when a siege by the forces loyal to the Roman Catholic church was laid against them. The Cathars had a belief that were at odds with the church and they were all killed. Today Carcassonne is fully restored and memories of that siege has faded.

These days the Sassi of Matera is beautiful and most of them restored and has become prime real estate. It wasn't always so, they were at one time recently condemned as unhygienic. It wasn't after it received Unescco World Heritage site designation that things turned around. Today it brings more delight to tourists all over the world including the Japanese. More and more the Japanese are visiting Southern Italy. They don't only form long lines outside the Louis Vuitton store in Paris.

I love Souleiado fabrics. I've had this scarf for almost 20 years and still use it very often. I love French perfumes and have used this brand for almost 30 years.

Recently I discovered L'occitane. I've always used their shea butter hand cream. I tried a sample of their foot cream. It is even better, better than the myriad of creams out there. I use it for the body, it stays on and really moisturizes. I've started using their skin care and I must say I love the Almond-Apple face cream. My skin has never been so soft, the apple acts as an astringent while the almond moisturises. It is not greasy and is good for all skin types.

I love sea urchins. I had sea urchin sushi at a Zagat rated sushi restaurant in Westwood. It was great. In Sicily I had spaghetti with sea urchin. I can't wait to go back to Sicily to eat fresh sea urchins, you're supposed to scoop out the 'eggs' from the hairy shell.

I love Peonies and English roses. While I can't grow Peonies, I have a few English roses in my front yard. Come into my garden, I want my roses to see you.

I love all things Baroque, exterior and interior, I can't get enough of it. I thought Leece in Southern Italy was the ultimate Baroque city till I went to Sicily. You ain't see nothing yet. Sicillian Baroque out-baroque all baroque. After 2 weeks in Sicily I was baroque-out, well,not quite. I'm going back in October. I would like to go back to Leece and Southern Italy one day. I don't know when.

These are just a few of my favorite things.

The joy of home and hearth

I walked in the house and the smell of baking hits me and I sighed, I'm home. I woke up early this morning and baked a coffee cake with fresh apricots. I bought so many that I had trouble consuming all of them. The season for fresh apricots, like cherries is so short. I ate them fresh and I put them into the coffee cake that I made. The smell was so good. The smell of home is like none other- whether it be the smell of cooking, fresh laundry or a scented candle. It is so reassuring.

While I love to travel, I love being home just as much. Some one once said about the 2 good feelings, one is when we're leaving on a trip, the other is when we come home from one. I love both.

I left the coffee cake to cool on the kitchen table and went to the farmers' market. This is a small Sunday market in Mar Vista where I live. Today was the Springfest; they expanded the market to include crafts and there was an exhibition of ethnic dances. Seeing the kids in their native costumes and dancing brought tears to my eyes. The day brought out a lot of young families with young children. It was a very heartening sight. This area has become a very favorable neighborhood. While the housing market has dampened; it hasn't really affected this neighborhood. Prices has held rather than declined. It is a very small neighborhood and one can only find so much space so close to the ocean. They don't make anymore land like this.

Yesterday I transplanted my tomato seedlings into bigger pots and I stuck a tomato wire into each pot. These are the tomato seeds I brought back from Sicily. I went early in the morning to Home Depot to buy the clay pots and tomato wires. We have a Home Depot that is opened 24 hours. I came back and noticed and noticed that the clay pots were made in Italy. How apt, Italian tomatoes growing in Italian clay pots.

I noticed some wood rot (or is it termites) affecting a section of the kitchen deck. I need to call Joe, my contractor, to see how much he wants to charge to replace that section. My contractor lives in this huge mansion 2 blocks from me.

Ah, the joys of home and home ownership!

My office is a converted garage and that is where I write this blog.

petit dejeuner

I googled 'petit dejeuner' and came up with a bunch of pretty sites. This morning I had my little breakfast, my petit dejeuner in my backyard. Sorry it wasn't in Paris but the ambiance was just as delightful. Usually when I'm at work I eat breakfast and lunch standing up at the pharmacy counter. I'm not supposed to do that but there's no time to sit and eat. I can only take bites every now and then. I've done this for over 20 years. It is nice to sit in the backyard and eat breakfast or lunch. I went to the Italian deli for a fresh loaf of bread, it was still warm. Then to the Santa Monica's farmer's market for some fresh produce. I came home, had some of the bread slathered with butter and cassis confiture, wash it down with some strong and milky Yuban coffee. Oh yes, I bought some big and juicy fresh blackberries. mmmmmm good! I love Southern California. I live near the Ocean and it is the most pleasant neighborhood. It has become a very desirable neighborhood. On my days off, I spend all my waking moments outside, so typical of Southern Californians; it's only May and I'm already as brown as a berry. I've eaten petit dejeuner in a lot of places in the world. I've eaten hostel breakfast and I can tell you they're not half as bad. The breakfast at Papa Germano, a hostel in Rome, was good. The thing with hostels is you meet a lot of other travelers, mostly young but there are middle aged people like myself. The one at the hostel in Brussels wasn't bad. I love the breakfast at the London School of Economics- in the summer the dorms are rented out to travelers and breakfast is included. The one next to the Tate Modern served a full English breakfast- mmmmm good. Eggs, sausages, bacon, toast, cereal, juice, coffee tea- such extravagance. I loved that one. Breakfast in Italy means standing at the bar for a cappuccino and a cornetto. The worst breakfast was at a pension in Santiago de Compostela. It was coffee and toast. The toast was so dry and tasteless. The hotel owner was the nicest lady I've ever met. I forgive her for the bad breakfast. Breakfast in Asia takes on a new meaning. I'm planning to go next Fall so I can come back with breakfast stories.

investing in stocks

This is not expert advice on investing. Over the last 12 years I have dabbled in stocks. Before the dot com debacle I have done extremely well. I liquidated my portfolio before the crash. Over the years after that I've continued to stay in the market albeit in a tepid way, watching and waiting. I'm back in in a bigger way lately with the continued rally of the market. It's getting hot and exciting again. The stocks I currently own,
Microsoft
Google
Celgene
Repligen
Johnson Control
Exxon Mobil
Apple
Wells Fargo
Force Protection Industries
This is the broadest of holdings that I've ever held. I bought Microsoft when it was $22; that was cheap; it's now at $30.80. I love Johnson Controls; I've sold it before, took some profits and repurchased it again. I bought 13 shares of Google at $286.00. That was an expensive stock. I questioned my judgment at that time but it was doing such exciting things that I had to own it. It's at $470.00. Exxon Mobil was my hedge against high gas prices. My reasoning was since I have to pay such high gas prices, I might own some oil and gas stocks. I wanted to include a financial institution in my portfolio, therefore the Wells Fargo stock. They're the holders of my mortgage. There's a little excitement in the defence area currently so I bought some Force Protection Industries- they make armored vehicles. I wanted to own more defence stocks but that was all the money I had currently. It was a toss up between Force Protection and Alliant which makes bullets and Ceradyne which makes body armor. I went with Force Protection. I have my eye on other defence contractors. I have to save some more money, so I can buy some more stocks. I love the stock market. Apple is not just a computer and software company anymore. It has become a luxury brand. It is doing exciting things too. Have you been in an Apple store? It is so gorgeous. My first computer was an Mac but I've had PCs since then. Celgene and Repligen are both bio tech companies having treatments for various cancers. It is big money; cancer treatment is very expensive and bio tech companies can make a lot of money.

Blogging

I read about blogging in the February 2006 issue of Businessweek. I went to Blogger.com and before I knew it, I started this blog. I have been dedicated to it since then. It really makes me happy to be able to express myself in such a public forum. I don't know if I have any readership. I have tried to get friends and family to visit it. I don't think any of them has done that. What nice friends and family I've got. No matter, I am still happy and find a lot of joy doing it. I have gone to other blogs and have found inspiration. Favorite blogs are Danny Gregory, Parisbreakfasts, and Chocolate and zucchini. I don't have that much time between a full time job, writing this blog (2-3 times a week), home ownership and checking on my stocks. To write for this blog, I have to read a lot so that I can more inspired. Someone once said, to write a book, one has to read half the library. We are a community of ordinary people doing what we love- whether it be cooking, painting or traveling. Blogging helps us live a more conscious life. We hone our observation skills so that even when we cook an ordinary meal, we can bring out our best china or the accoutrement we have purchased while traveling abroad and stage the meal, take a picture and post it on our blog. This way we are paying homage to an ordinary day. Eventually there are no ordinary days because we honor everyday and everything. Eventually it is not an ordinary life, it is a beautiful life. Collette said, 'Regardez.' Observe, look! That is what I do these days; slow down to observe; to capture the feeling of the moment; write it down; draw a picture or take a photograph. The Internet has brought into our ordinary lives a lot of opportunities to live an extraordinary life. Now I don't travel just so I can add notches to the totem pole of places visited. I chose places that are quaint and out of the ordinary. I go to record the delight of the senses- sound, smell and sight. There are lots of people doing their own thing and therefore making it a more interesting world. What if we didn't have Jeff Bezos, we would not have Amazon.com. It's my most favorite store in the world. Some women comes to mind, Mary Quant who invented the mini skirt, Rachel Ashwell, Cath Kidston and Martha Stewart and a host of others. It was not a Madame Curie kind of discovery but made important contributions to make the lives of women better and less tedious. If our lives could be less tedious and humdrum, to me, you are as important as Madame Curie! To me, the many artists out there like Danny Gregory are important. Their art, while not in the league of Picasso does in no way diminish their impact on my life. In fact, Danny Gregory in his book 'Creative Licence' has made more impact on my life. He started me on art- drawing and watercolors. The last time I did art was when I was 13. I had a teacher who never stopped belittling my work. That was over 40 years ago, since then, I never touched a sketch pad.......until a year ago. Now I can't stop. It's been a great joy. I'm still no good but it is not about good. It is about self-expression. I think lots of people out there have never allowed themselves the self-expression that they need, either friends and family have not been encouraging or they have been belittling themselves. I am in mental health and I've made an incredible living off of mental health. It is huge business,more than most people are aware of. If we were to be a little kinder to ourselves and others, we would not have this mental health crisis. I am very timid about exhibiting my work to family and friends. They only care to remember my mess up past and not recognise the fact that I've moved beyond my past. Be careful to protect your 'young crops'- your new self. A douse of criticism or nonchalance could kill the whole venture. I am very aware of it and have prospered because friends and family have no clue in the start of any venture. They only find out when the venture is well on its way and by then it can stand up to any criticism. My blog, in a way, is therapy. This is my 'Prozac!'

painting

I went to the art store the other day and bought some tubes of water colors. I have been using this kid's tray of water colors and thought I should upgrade. I've been learning on my own on how to do water colors, working through some of the exercises in my collection of art books. It's been really fun. I went to the garden and brought in a rose and started drawing and painting. I decided I do better drawing and painting from seeing the real thing rather than from pictures or photographs. This means an added challenge; I need to continue traveling and bringing along my sketchbook and maybe my paints.
I recently acquired a book on travel by John Julian Norwich. It is actually an anthology of travel writing from the very earliest to more recent. It had some of the most amusing travel writing and the style, mostly of British travelers is so fun. Back in the days before the advent of cameras, they travel with sketchbooks and a whole lot of other things. There was no such thing as travel lightly. Some even bring along their own illustrators. I have a whole series of travel books by Amy Oakley written around the 1920's. Her husband was her illustrator and they traveled to the Pyrenees, Provence, Brittany and the French Alps. Her travel writing is so descriptive and delightful that each time I read them, I want to pack up my bag and go to the airport. His black and white renditions of the places they visited is so incredible that you don't need mega pixels digital camera photos. It sure beats the colorful photographic books that we have today. These are really old books that I acquired from Alibris.com. I love her writing and his drawings. I've read them many times. They have been wonderful companions; friendly, non-judgmental and entertaining. I aspire to be like Amy Oakley. Here's a sample of a foreword written by her husband, 'Reader, thou who longest to escape the routine of a humdrum life, thou who yearnest for a realm of fancy, a domain where thou mayst wander unconstrained, amidst a pageantry of light and color, - crags bearing on their brows glistening diadems of ice; vales o'erflowing with romance; towns of medieval lure and folks arrayed as though of some long-vanished century- reader, come and forth together we shall fare into such a land that waits us. For in the Alpine region of fair France.......'

Paris

My Paris. I love European supermarkets; it doesn't matter if it is grand or just adequate. They sell things that we don't get here. Even when I shop at home, I love looking at the ethnic section or at foreign made food stuff whether they be cookies, cheese or just mineral water. I found some mix for making churros from Spain in my local supermarket last year. It brought a huge smile on my face; I remember eating chocolate con churros in Spain the year before. In Italy I shop at a Salumeria for bread, crackers, cheese, Mortadella, Calamari salad or roasted peppers. In France, especially in Paris, I love going in the supermarket part of Monoprix. It is better stocked than the Salumeria of Italy. It is fun to go into a Tesco in London. A lot of Monoprix's has a fresh bakery attached and they have great pastries. I usually buy my brioche from these bakeries. They sell clothes and sundries too. Once we saw a pretty dress in the window of the Monoprix in Avignon. My niece wanted it but the store was closed. I consoled her by telling her we'll get it at another Monoprix in Paris. We did. That was 4 years ago, she still have the dress even though she outgrew it.

I love the Marias district of Paris; it is so lively and bustling and has a wonderful mix of ethnic food. I've had oriental food there and spoken Chinese with some of the waiters. I've been in a Jewish restaurant here too and been warmed by the homey feeling of this restaurant; it was so down home. It was like one big family dining together.

I love Berthillon glaces; their intense flavors is mmmm good. I love window licking in Paris; the incredible display of pastries especially in the windows of Laduree. These days, that's all I can afford to do- window shopping or as the French call it 'window licking'.

I love the used book sellers along the Seine. To me it is so quintessentially Paris. Even though I don't buy anything, I still love to wander along the Seine and poke my nose into these stalls. I remember doing it on my first visit and on a wintry day. I remember scurrying real fast on my way to the Musee D'orsay to catch it before it closed for the day. I was leaving to go back to London the next day.

I love the boutique hotels, so pretty and so French. It is like being in an aristocratic French home. Some are not that expensive; some are more expensive. I have stayed in the very lovely Hotel du Louvre, as the name implies, it is round the corner from the Louvre. Another is Hotel Caron de Beaumarchais; as the name imply it was the home of Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais. Who was he? He was a French diplomat and the author of the French opera,'the marriage of Figaro'. It is a really pretty place with very pretty rooms, almost exquisite.

When one remembers Paris, one is more likely to remember the nuances of whatever French life we were privy to experience rather than the monuments. Of course, we've been to the Louvre, we remember the glass pyramid and the Mono Lisa. We remember vaguely all the impressionist paintings at the Musee D'orsay. In the end what really impresses on our minds are the memories of the piece of Quiche, so fragrant and delicious or that breakfast of nothing but a croissant and an espresso. It is not like Rome; we definitely remember in great detail the Sistine chapel, St Peter Basilica or the other great monuments. We go to Paris for a different reason; it is a different state of mind. It is a city we would live in it we weren't living in the USA. It is a city we want to be very familiar with, have for a second home if we can't have it as first.

I am a sucker for stories of Americans living in Paris. This world would be a boring place it we didn't have Paris.

Provence

the colors of Provence- Sometimes I go through old photographs to look for inspiration. I found these taken in March 2002 in Arles. I remember that trip very well. They had just introduced the euro and the US dollar was strong against the euro. European travel was cheap. $650 got me a return ticket between Los Angel es and Nice. I remember staying in this quintessential provencal hotel in Avignon for 100 euro a night ($80). I couldn't afford this hotel today. I remember how delightful old Nice was, of being enthralled by old yellow buildings and narrow and crooked alley ways. I've been back to Nice two more times after that first trip and still love old Nice. It has become an old friend. I remember running out of cash in Monte Carlo and couldn't find an outside ATM machine. I was buzzed into some of the fanciest banks but there weren't any ATM inside. Finally I found one operated by Banco Popular of Cote d'zur.

Some friends and I had arranged to go on that trip together. They cancelled one by one and I ended up going by myself. That was the best part, I enjoyed it so much even though I was scared and unsure of myself; I've been traveling to Europe twice a year ever since.

In March, the land was bare but the almond blossoms were in full swing. Each time I looked at Van Gogh;s painting of Provence and Almond blossoms, I understood what he saw. I learned to love Calixsons, a confection from Aix en Provence. I remember the espresso at the bar/cafe of the train station in Avignon. I spent many mornings there because I was always catching the train in the morning to go somewhere for the day.

Arles was one of those day trips. These pictures were taken in Arles.

I look forward to being in Provence later this year.

day off again

I have just finished writing an article on Palermo. I am going to submit it for publication, where, I don't know yet. Every free time I have is spent writing and doing research for the book I'm writing. I am writing a book on Sicily. I have been busy researching on how to set up a website. On top of this I have a full time job. My head is bursting. Right now I'm writing in the Toyota service shop waiting lounge. My car is being serviced. I write in airports, in trains, in waiting rooms, in the car, at work, in the kitchen while cooking; I never stop. Sigh...... Where this will lead to, I don't know, if no where I am still happy. I am planning to return to Sicily in October to see the rest of the island and to finish my manuscript on Sicily. I was going to make France a separate trip but since I'm flying Air France again and going through Paris, I have decided to take a third week off and to head down to Roussillon, a little village in Provence. This is exciting. I work so hard and again my traveling is part work also, to supply material for this blog and the website I'm going to set up, for the articles and books I'm going to write. I really have to work hard at saving for the trip. What, Ramen noodles every day for the next 5 months? Almost but not really. It doesn't have to be that drastic. My sister and I used to have a competition to see who is the most frugal. She wins at that all the time but I learnt a lot from her. My other sister said she'll bring her family over from New Jersey for Christmas. So I have to start preparing for Christmas now. I have lots of money but I still like to prepared for whatever financial outlay that comes along.

Italian cooking

I have just acquired an old Italian cookbook by Elizabeth David. The description of the food and the history is so compelling that I want to read it more than I want to cook from it. I found out about it in Peter Robb's book, 'Midnight in Sicily'. I am into all things Sicilian. There isn't much in it about Sicilian cooking; it did give a recipe for 'Caponata'. It also mentioned 'Spaghetti con le sarde', a Sicilian dish of spaghetti with sardines and raisins. She has never eaten it and does not give a recipe for it. I have eaten it and I love it. I have the recipe for it and intend to make it at home one day. The reason I bought this old and used book (it's out of print) was for the pictures. As Elizabeth David said in this same book; she didn't put any pictures of vine covered terraces as most Italian cookbooks so often do. Instead she has Renato Guttuso's paintings- on the cover and throughout the book. She spent a year researching for this book and was depressed after it. She depression lifted when the pictures of Renato Guttuso's paintings started arriving from Rome. As I said before, I'm into all things Sicilian. Renato Guttuso was born in the Bagheria, a town just outside Palermo. In fact, my next trip to Palermo will include a trip to Bagheria to see the crazy sculptures in the garden at Palazzo Palagonia. I am into the odd and unusual.. Renato Guttuso painted the market scenes in Palermo. His pictures evoked memories of the Vucciria market; it is a covered market, with red plastic covers over all the stalls- they sell produce, meat, fish, odds and ends. It is always dark because it is between buildings that block out the sun. Light comes from the bare electrical light bulbs that hang from the ceiling. When I visited it was pretty sedate, probably because of the rain. It is supposed to be a very lively scene with each vendor singing and chanting about how great their stuff is in order to entice the customers to buy from them. I bought some tomato seeds and they are now growing in pots in my backyard. I also bought some alpine strawberries- I ate those. Renato Guttuso later moved to Rome. He started an anti-fascist organization in Rome. Brave man. He saw first hand what fascism did to Sicily.

While writing the book, Elizabeth David, had lots of detractors. When friends heard that she was writing a book on Italian cooking, their reaction was, 'all that pasta, don't we have enough stodge already'. People thought that Italian food is only pasta. What I found useful in her book were the Italian names of the dishes. In Catania, we asked the waiter what 'cavallo' was. He didn't speak English, he waved both arms like a bird and we thought it was a chicken dish. He, then, went to the kitchen and came back with some one who told us it was horse meat. They use both calamari and seppie on the menu. In some dishes they call it calamari, in others, seppie- to us they are both squid.

I researched about Sicily before I went there. Since coming back I'm still learning about Sicily.

Paris breakfasts

It is us Americans that are so crazy, we even take photos of our breakfasts in Paris. I remember my first trip to Paris, 7 years ago. I went to a bar and ordered a croissant and a cappuccino and when they came, I took a photo of it. I found the picture in my archives, scanned it into the computer and 'viola' here it is. Looking through those old photos sure brought back happy memories. I've become a more savvy traveler since then. The other picture was taken 4 years ago in Carcassonne. We stayed in some one's loft inside the walled city of Carcassonne. My first trip to Carcassonne was a happy one, my second 2 years ago, not so. I fought with the restaurant owner, I was alone and he was rude. I wasn't going to take any crap from this French brute. I've become a more savvy traveler, I've grown up.

Paris

Paris, Ah, Paris! What is this world or this life without Paris? I don't want to answer that. It is unthinkable and unbearable. In March, on my trip to Sicily, I had 2 stopovers in Paris. I was at Charles de Gaulle airport for a few hours on my way to and from Sicily. I'm going back to Sicily in October this year. I have decided to spend a day in Paris.
Just as I'm putting together an itinerary for Sicily, I am also researching what to do in Paris for a day. I've been to Paris 4 times before but there's always something left to do or I could just hang out. I've decide to stay in a different arrondissement, the 6 eme on the left bank. I've always stayed in the 1eme or the 4eme on the right bank. I'll hang out around St Germain de pres and see if I can get more inspired to write. I'll hunt for the ghosts of Voltaire or Janet Flanner. Planning for this day in Paris is taking up as much attention as the trip to Sicily. This is a trip to Sicily and Paris is just a side trip. Oh well, there are no rules. I knowwhat I am going to do in Sicily, see the places I didn't get to and revisit the places that I have been to before. I have 10 days to do all that but to squeeze Paris into one day takes more planning.
I read in a guidebook of the Odeon area in the 6eme, an old neighborhood-cobblestone streets, old shops and cafes. There is the very exclusive department store, 'au bon marche'. The hotel I picked is near Pont Neuf, the very ornate bridge over the Seine, one of the many bridges that link the right and left bank. I want to eat French yogurt again. I love French yogurt. Can you imagine someone is actually excited about French yoghurt? I am not a yogurt fan, not in the US anyway but I love French yogurt.
It was last year, in Nice, that I fell in love with French yoghurt. I wanted muesli for breakfast and was asked by the waitress if I wanted it with milk or yogurt. I said, yogurt, I've never eaten my cereal with yoghurt before. Live dangerously, right? It tasted so wonderful. I tried to replicate it at home, it tasted horrid. Heck, the yogurt tastes bad here. Imagine being excited about eating yogurt in France. The French and European experience is just not reproducible in the USA. A vacation in Hawaii or Mexico is not the same a vacation in Europe. Of course, in Europe, there's no one to pamper us, in fact, they can't tolerate ignorant Americans; but I still love it and will continue to return to Europe. It'll be my fifth visit to Paris.

Sicily, again

I have 2 more weeks of vacation in October and I intend to return to Sicily to finish seeing the rest of the island. I found a great flight (not fare) on Air France and Alitalia that will take me in and out of Catania, Sicily from Los Angeles. There is no time to take the train between Catania and Rome though I would have loved it. At the water's edge, the train breaks apart (with passengers inside) and gets loaded onto ferries and taken over to the other side where it gets reassembled on the tracks. This time I will head west to see Segeste, Erice, Trapani and Piazza Amerina and will also return to some cities I saw on my last trip.

Palermo- I intend to see more of the works of the Sicilian scupltor, Giacomo Serpotta. His 'putti' works at the Oratory of Santa Cita is so delightful. He is able to make plaster shine like marble and he decorated the whole room with plaster figures' they were placed haphazardly but into scenes depicting the rosary. The rosary are a series of prayers; when one prays the rosary, one prays a whole series of prayers to Mary. It is a very catholic thing to do. I am not a catholic. The rosary has special significance to Sicily. There was this famous battle of Lepanto. Sicily, being in such a strategic position was always the target of foreign invasions. In the battle of Lepanto, the Sicilian fleet helped in defeating the Ottomans. It was a fierce battle and the pope at that time asked the people to pray the rosary everyday. They credited the victory to Mary's divine intervention. There were a whole series of cults dedicated to the rosary springing up in Palermo, each having their own oratories decorated to honor the rosary. An oratory is just a small chapel. Giacomo Serpotta was commissioned to decorated a few of them. In fact, in Palermo, his work is found in a lot of oratories and churches. There is a special tour called the Serpotta itinerary where one can see all his works. His work at the oratory of Santa Cita is the most memorable. At the end of the room, he made a depiction of the battle of Lepanto. The little plaster figures look almost alive on the walls of the oratory. They are playful and yet meaningful. I have just acqquired an out of print book by Donald Garstang called, 'Giacomo Serpotta and the stuccatori of Palermo 1560-1790' that shows and explain all the works of Giacomo Serpotta. While he is the most famous, he didn't work in a vacuum. He had 'mentors', Gagnini, who preceded him, for one. Gagnini's work can be seen all over Palermo also. Giacomo's father, Gaspare did plasterwork in the cathedral of Palermo. So did Giacomo's brother, Guiseppe, in fact, both brothers have collaborated in a few commissions. Giacomo's own son, Procopio has numerable commissions all over Palermo. There were a lot of others but Giacomo's work stood out.

In fact, during this period in Palermo's history, the plasterwork of all these artists is what makes the churches and chapels of Sicily so unique. This, together with the colorful marble inlay work and the mosaics and the baroque style architecture makes Sicily an amazing destination. The island, while small, has everything to enthrall everyone.

If one is into the baroque, there are whole cities rebuilt in the baroque style notably Noto, Ragusa and Modica. If one is into food, Sicilian food, while not having too many dishes is delicious, substantial and unique. It is rustic at its very best. Beaches, anyone? The whole island is surrounded by water. Baroque interiors- one needs only see Casa Professa, a Jesuit church where every inch is richly decorated with colorful marble inlay and plaster figurines.

If one is into something older, there are ruins of ancient Greek temples and amphitheatres all over the island- Taormina, Siracusa, Agrigento, Selinunte and Segeste.

The food, I've said before is memorable. In fact, since I came back, I have made 'Caponata' twice. I love it.

Tomatoes

I was watching a documentary on farm workers one night on PBS (I don't have cable); they were picking tomatoes. The tomatoes are picked when they are green and still rock hard. They can withstand a lot of rough handling and has enough time to get from fields to warehouses and then finally to the stores and restaurants and our dining table. It might be thousands of miles and definitely a few weeks before they reach our tables. Wow! No wonder they only look like tomatoes and they definitely don't taste like tomatoes. They taste like cardboard. I knew that they're picked way before they're ready but I didn't know how early. Now I know. So I guess there's no other way of eating a good tomato unless one grows it oneself or go to Italy. I brought back some tomato seeds from Sicily. They are known in the world as the sweetest tomatoes in the world. They are being sprouted in a flower pot in my backyard. I saw little green leaves appearing 2 days ago and I was elated. I've been having some issues the whole of last week but that didn't dampen the elation caused by the sprouting of those tomato seeds. Last year I was in Southern Italy and tasted some great tomatoes. In March this year I was in Sicily and was on a quest to find the sweetest tomatoes in the world. I went to the seed store; farm stores are everywhere; in fact, in Acireale, they were the only stores in town. It is a farming town. I went there to see the gorgeous baroque duomo. It had the most beautiful facade. We had to walk quite a distance to town from the train station. On the way back to the train station we stopped at a fruit stand and bought some mandarin oranges, apples and pears. The pear were so very delicious. I'll never forget that pear. Pears now will forever evoke memories of Sicily just like sweet tomatoes will. I'm going back to Sicily in October. I am writing a book on Sicily. I hope I can sneak back some seeds for squash and eggplants.

day off

So far, the past 8 years, I've gotten every Wednesday off. So I walk or take the bus to Santa Monica. This morning I took the Big Blue Bus of Santa Monica and it took me through the pretty neighborhoods of Venice beach and Santa Monica. I had to walk past the French restaurant/cafe, 'le pain Quotidien'. I looked in and was drawn in by the pretty display of tarts and muffins. How can I resist not buying something. I bought 5 coconut macaroons, they were so perfect that I waited till I came home, did some drawings of them before biting into one of them. They smelled so good, it was nice, sweet and chewy. I went to look at some watercolors at 'Michael's', a craft store. I am going to start doing watercolors pretty soon. Then I went shopping at the farmer's market. At one vendor, the strawberries looked so ripe and luscious that I couldn't resist. I bought some, together with a punnet of raspberries. Then I went to the oriental folks, bought some Chinese kale and fresh peas. Tonight's dinner will feature a can of Progresso soup, I particularly like their gumbo soup, fresh peas, lightly steamed in the microwave with a touch of salt and butter, saute Chinese kale with oyster sauce. For dessert, fresh strawberries and raspberries. On my way back from the market, I stopped into the British store to buy some digestive biscuits. Right now, I'm writing in the yard, I had my afternoon nap, I'm drinking my tea and eating a couple of the digestive biscuits. I really should have gone to the L'occitane store for some French soap and hand cream. Maybe next Wednesday.

books

Jim Rohn said in one of his books, 'get an idea, get a good idea, get a few ideas, on how to make money, be a better person, live a better life, on anything. Books are incredible sources of ideas. He recommends owning a library. Start by buying a book, buy 2 books, start a library. I have a library and am constantly adding to my burgeoning collection of books.
Stuart Wilde of "The trick to money is having some", said, 'if a place is not conducive to making or earning money, one should move. If Birmingham, England doesn't offer much in opportunities, then people should move, to London, to Ireland or anywhere that offers more in opportunities. If Birmingham, Alabama doesn't offer much in opportunities, then we need to move to Florida, New York or California or anywhere in the USA that does.
Eric Maisel in 'A writer's Paris' suggested that if the place where we live is not conducive to creativity, we can go to Paris for a week, two, a month, two, six months or even a year or anywhere in the world that can coax some creativity out of us. Go and hunt for the ghosts of great literary artists that has found inspiration in the city of lights.
Now my library at home includes art books. It only started a year ago after I acquired Danny Gregory's book, 'The creative licence'. Now I'm never without a journal to draw and to write. At the airport, on my way to Sicily, I sketched and drew everything in sight, the wrappings on the Burger King burger, the condiment packages, the people around me and the plane I was to fly in. It was fun. It beats buying a few expensive glossy magazines from the overpriced bookseller. While in Sicily I made a few sketches, though not enough, I could just spend the whole trip drawing the whole time. It was not just fun, it makes the brain work in ways it has never before. I don't know the outcome of such a brain, it nothing else I'm a happier person, a happy amateur, or a happy dabbler.
Colette wrote a lot about her observations in her lifetime; she didn't know where that will lead her. Now, all of us read the works of Colette. I'm expecting some more books from Amazon. One of them is on the Sicilian sculptor, Giacomo Serpotta. Giacomo who? He is only known by Sicilians and people who has been to Sicily. I came to love and enjoy his work. My collection of books include a wide range of subjects, money, travel, decorating, theology, cooking, history, etc. Some of them are reread many times. One thing I noticed, the collection of books on China, Tibet and Sicily is growing, outpacing all others. I wonder what that means....

Thoreau

'Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes' - Henry David Thoreau. How true. I was to attend a meeting last year (I don't have to attend meetings in my job) so I went out and bought a linen jacket from Zara. I ended up attending the meeting wearing old clothes. The $80 linen jacket from Zara still hangs, unworn in my closet. The family was over for Easter dinner and we were looking through the photos I took of my March 07 visit to Sicily. The teenager niece, being a fashion police (at 13) noticed that I had the same clothes on as the trip to Italy the year before. The computer bag with the numerous buckles to ward off even the most dexterous of pickpockets; the grey wool cardigan; the pink scarf she bought me during our 04 trip to France and my travel pants from Columbia. To me, it is not the clothes, I never shop for clothes before any trip, it is the place. It might be the same clothes but that's not important. It is a different place each time, that's what's important. I get the last laugh. I haven't shopped in years. I have a huge walk in closet in my house and it is very empty. I wear the same old rags day in day out. I watched a documentary called 'China Blue' last night of how the sweat shops in China makes denim jeans for the whole world. I don't think I'll ever wear denim jeans ever again in my life. I digress. I used to love fashion until I started traveling. It costs a lot to travel, even at the way I do it, slumming all the way, at least $2500n per trip. So there's no money for new clothes. This way I get to travel twice a year, still afford to pay off my mortgage at an accelerated rate, increase the size of my CD (not music) and my stock portfolio. I don't buy expensive makeup, just drugstore stuff. (I work in a drugstore as a pharmacist). I have another 2 weeks off in October and I have 2 alternative itineraries- one to return to Sicily, the other to the French Alps. I can't decide. What will I wear? I'll rummage through my empty (half) closet to round up something. The red pair of sneakers that I had on has been to many places in Europe with me. I have to retire it, for Spring travel anyway because rain water could get in. I had wet toes this trip.

monreale-sicily