Desert One by Jim Jennings, a weekend retreat nestled underneath the San Jacinto mountains. This makes me miss the desert so much I can hardly articulate my feelings. I’m glad Modernism is being appreciated and all, but I feel like a minimal approach to Palm Springs is what makes it shine. Overbearing architecture is too much for the land, which speaks for itself and desires so little. The sum of the facts does not constitute the work or determine its aesthetics. Very well done, indeed. (via Architectural Digest)
I would love to have a picnic under the olive trees! Prosecco, heirloom tomatoes, basil, and some sweet grapes and cantaloupe.
Last night I saw a screening of Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds. In the mood for some major ass kicking. Up next, The Dirty Dozen and Quel maledetto treno blindato, also known as, The Inglorious Bastards.
The surfer is simple and poetic. To say that they are simple, however, is not to imply some kind of deficiency. On the contrary, they are in the possession of a purity that is so authentic and innocent it surpasses the often complicated or romantic notions of any admirer of their culture. And this number is great. To live a carefree existence, where the number of barrels caught is of chief concern is truly an enviable position. This culture, highly coveted and so often poorly imitated, is reflected in their dress (perfunctory, waterproof), style (laidback, secondary), skin (tan, tan, tan), vernacular (“el rollo,” “gnarly,” for example), and their destinations (South America, Central America, California, Oregon, Fiji, Tahiti, South Africa, etc).
Of pure heart and clear head, the surfer sees the world as one huge opportunity to catch the best wave, an attitude breeding some of the most gentle-hearted souls imaginable. Good-natured, easy to please, ready to pack up at a moments notice. If you can’t be one, you should at the very least know one. They possess a quality so rare and beautiful — never being able to get enough of the object of their affection. Not many can say this. To have such a direct relationship with the ocean is nurturing and fundamental. It is reciprocal, give and take. You must respect the ocean, she is a mighty force that can make your life a living hell or a true paradise. She offers complete freedom and total dependence. You must learn to navigate this fact carefully.
In the early 1960s, filmmaker Bruce Brown takes two surfers, Mike Hynson and Robert August, on a trip around the world. Their goal? Simple: to find the perfect wave. Ill content with the cold winter beaches of California, they set out on a voyage that takes them to Ghana, Nigeria, South Africa, Tahiti, Australia, and Hawaii. One part anthropological study, two parts surf documentary, they exemplify the surfers natural ability to adapt to his surroundings. The Sandals scored the soundtrack, giving it a feel that is equal parts surf rock and National Geographic audio. (Side note: I think Wes Anderson studied the score of this for Life Aquatic). They capture the completely innocent desire to never let summer end, an idea so impractical but nevertheless attempted. This movie changed the surf world forever, and ushered in an endless practice of a surf and travel lifestyle. Things became more complicated, money and power and fame are involved in a way that changes everything. But whatever the stakes, nothing on the shore matters when you are out there in the water, pure and simple. Everyone should be so lucky to feel this way about anything.
lyrical, lilting plants at highline park in new york. it is a sanctuary within the bustling streets of manhattan, which i was very pleased to spend the afternoon visiting.
sailing around the san francisco bay; there’s nothing like being on or in the water with a nice breeze on your face. a love for the ocean can inspire many activities, and i want to cultivate that interest wherever i am. for this particular phase and place in my life, sailing is my method of choice.
sailing : northern california :: surfing : southern california
there have been multiple interpretations of this song by screamin’ jay hawkins. it is macabre in both nature and performance; no surprise that marilyn manson eventually made his own version. however, above all, i prefer that of creedence clearwater. their take is completely raw and powerful. it offers very visceral reactions, at least for me, and makes you want to move like nobodys business!
On sunny days, I like to walk up to the little grocery store for lunch, passing by such streets as Pennsylvania, Texas, and so forth. Potrero Hill is an interesting place, where you can feel the history of old San Francisco. I think about what kind of a person would ride around in this car; I am pretty damn sure he drank Anchor Steam beer down by the water.
Beach stripes I - I don’t like San Remo (san remo, italy)
Variations on a Theme. Its comforting to know that some things endure — hobbies, tastes, or otherwise — when everything else can seem so uncertain. It sounds silly, that I could feel this way about something like striped umbrellas, but to realize a cohesive string of ideas or observations over the course of time is almost a relief.
On lazy Saturday mornings, I frankly don’t have the energy to go out and get a copy of the paper, so I read the digital version. This morning I checked out one of my favorite Times travel features: 36 hours, in which they feature the highlights of a particular destination. It gives a succint yet comprehensive overview of a place. This morning was Martha’s Vineyard, a place dearly beloved to me and my family. It’s rustic, rugged charm draws a laid back crowd, and is decidedly un-flashy. As the article says: Martha’s Vineyard is like a miniature Ireland — roads wind among sheep, horses and cattle grazing in bright green pastures, and many of the farms welcome visitors. I miss it very much and hope to return soon. (via New York Times)
Of Italy’s 205 prisons, about half have theater programs. Compagnia della Fortezza is one such prison in Volterra, Italy which is perhaps the most renowned. Their production of “Alice in Wonderland, a Theatrical Essay on the End of a Civilization” is based on Lewis Carroll, but incorporates texts from authors including Shakespeare, Genet, Pinter, Chekhov and Heiner Müller.
“Mr. Punzo said that the prison authorities trust the inmates enough to allow them to build sets using chainsaws, or to use ropes for props. “We explain to the guards what we need to make theater,” he said. “The inmates know that if they cross any lines it’s all over.”
We need to make theater! (via New York Times)
A nice summer melon, bringing juicy goodness into my day and giving me a brief escape (if only fleeting, and completely sensory) from the cold, cold winter of a San Francisco summer.
Surfing the North Carolina coast. Imagine that! A place named Kill Devil Hills is nicknamed the graveyard of the Atlantic. These photos are dark, almost haunting, but with an incredible allure about them. It’s all terribly romantic, I think. (via New York Times)
