january 7"did you ever think that you'd have a friend who is a krishna devotee?" i still have the tune from sandy's tape of various mantras replaying in my ears... and since i can't approach them from the standpoint of faith, i try to listen to them for the beauty of the music, which often hides below the surface. i try to tell him that i enjoy it, but he gets much more out of it, and it's one of the first things that i can't really join him in. he always manages to pull me into his world, but this is one place i can't go.
so instead we go to the store for pizza makings. we stop at the magazine rack and outdoor has an issue on 100 things to make your life fuller. we left thru... number one hundred is "surf", which makes my day. the one empty rack in the entire store is the one we need - boboli pizza crust. we do a little dance of disbelief and then ricochet on out with different crusts and mint chocolate chip ice cream and oj and crumble donuts. we drive in his ailing vw fox with jury-rigged cd stereo and bottles of spiced cider and ginger beer rolling around in the back. he points out car models as we go. at his apartment i spoon on olive oil and his mother's home-made pesto, crumble on peppercorn feta and goat cheese, and slice up some sundried tomatoes, which we didn't know we had to soak before using, so they were a little tough. a reg'lar feast at one in the morning. then we sat down, listened to the sundays, and looked at his glove-box-sized raod atlas and drooled over a deserted island on the jersey shore and also cape hatteras. he showed me the half-dozen places he used to live around cape cod, including the lighthouse and where his dad started surfing. vicki and david get back... he has a tattoo of the virgin mary from his town in mexico on his back. sandy tells him i speak spanish and i say "well..." and sandy says "he hates it when i tell people that." i do, but it takes a while to warm up. like his car.
i sleep over and the alarm doesn't go off, so we rip it at 70 down back counrty roads to drop me off. when i'm back i watch rosie, our largest cat, stalking a squirrel in the back yard. she steals controled steps every time the prey looks down, her white dangling belly brushing the cement tiles. when she's close enough, the steps tumble into eachother, and momentum carries her in all vectors forward no stop, but mr. squirrel loops around a bench post and gets away. a little back yard drama. the vole on the doormat wasn't so lucky.
life has gotten pleasantly simple recently. i know that it won't last, and that in many ways it is a short-sighted simplicity, but it is helping me to prioritize and figure some shit out. the sky is blue, air is cold, i'm feeling real, i like photography and wine. i want to own a winery at some point in my life... it won't make much money, but it will be me providing goodness to people, crafting a pleasure, my little bit of artistry.