As much as I love looking at paintings and sculptures by famous — and in many cases long-dead — artists, I appreciate even more the paintings and sculptures of artists who are not household names. Actually, they are household names — in my world. They are “local artists” that are living and breathing life into new ideas all the time.
Christine, Rebecca and I agree that what the San Diego trolley system needs is a car with Champagne and massage service. It’s the sort of thing that comes to mind (well, it did mine anyway) when you’ve just finished a gourmet dinner at Eddie V’s and are ready to head home by way of public transportation. Christine and Rebecca were at the door to bid me (well, yes, and other diners I’m sure) a good evening. But then we entered into a conversation.
Barack and I went to Palm Springs over the Presidents Day weekend. Granted we did not arrive via the same method of transportation, as he traveled from D.C. and I traveled from San Diego, which was off-course for Air Force One. (One can imagine the complications that would attend even the slightest detour, as well as the likely criticism over wasted tax dollars, especially since a 747 consumes more fuel than my Chevy Tracker, whose fuel is paid for entirely by me).
What mad pursuit? What wild ecstasy?
To seek the proper vessel
to grace my doorway
did I sally forth.
Though his quick-fire, thickly accented speech makes it impossible to catch every word and even whole sentences, and though his response to a question may not actually answer said question, Christo makes certain things crystalline.