How Do We Do?

Do we see the signs?
Do we listen to our body?
Do we listen to our heart?
Do we stop the chatter in our head?
Do we mind our thoughts?
Do we watch our language?
Do we mean what we say?
Do we share it right away?
Do we save it for another day?



Do we give from our heart?
Do we make a fresh start?
Do we create enough?
Do we expect too much?
Do we give it away?
Do we take the time?
Do we enjoy the ride?
Do we tidy up?



Do we toughen up?
Do we challenge us?
Do we eat right?
Do we chew every bite?
Do we savor with delight?
Do we walk?
Do we talk?
Do we write?



Do we read?
Do we take the lead?
Do we take the heat?
Do we ride the Sun?
Do we have much fun?
Do we make way for some?
Do we behave?
Do we act brave?



Do we waver?
Do we react?
Do we shout?
Do we tremble?
Do we tear up?
Do we absorb like a sponge?
Do we let it out?
Do we shed it like a duck?



Do we quiver in a heap?
Do we get it all out?
Do we resurrect?
Do we shake it off?
Do we stumble about?
Do we start with baby steps?
Do we make a fast run?
Do we jump the gun?



Do we wipe the slate clean?
Do we hold a grudge?
Do we mire in the mud?
Do we sabotage?
Do we ask for help?
Do we command respect?
Do we repeat our defeat?
Do we give our Self a reprieve?




Do we wreck our Self?
Do we check our Self?
Do we save our Self?
Do we save another?
Do we sore together?
Do we float to the top?
Do we touch the crest?
Do we swim along?
Do we carry on?

Do we...

Lazy in Laguna Beach

Sometimes a quick drive along the coast is the easiest answer for an unplanned vacation in exchange for desperation. We found our slice of the easy life along the shores of Laguna Beach, coming complete with a European accent.














We stroll through the neighborhood every morning, late in the day, and again in the dark of night guided by the full moon, that is coming on fat and strong.

We stop by the Laguna Nursery for some gardening inspiration, for when we become ambitious.

We eat like never before at Sapphire Laguna where Brunch comes to us as a Surprise in a Box at Sapphire for those of us you are too tired to decide.

We skimmed through stacks of beautiful photo Books, and managed some good Summer reads.

Food + Art = Love

Food is Love.



Art is Love.



Every little thing is Love.



An ugly black cigar is Love.



A ring from some obnoxious little king is Love.


In the words of Colette's "Gigi",
"Food is Love. Art is Love. Every little thing is Love."
"An ugly black cigar is Love. A ring from some obnoxious little king is Love"
..."I just don't understand the Parisians. Making Love every chance they get."

So there I am, finding my Self again, staring down into a cup, looking for Love.
Could you imagine my surprise, as a looked with my own eyes, what was staring back at me, as a took a sip!

So insatiable I am all the time. Looking around every corner, out the car window, in every unkempt drawer, for something more. I drank it all up. And of course, I still want more but, at least for a moment I took pause. I enjoyed the delight of every little bite, and watched as my glass caught the light.

May your world of art and words and food, deliver you Love and more.
Take the time to enjoy the delight of every little bite.


This is what I did:
Puree a few fresh apricots and pour in glass.
Puree separately a handful of fresh raspberries and drop in as two spoon fulls.
Food + Art = Love.

Coco + Kelley = Teri's Orange You Glad it's Strawberry

Here I am... look up!
Hit the title or copy and paste this:
http://cocokelley.blogspot.com/2009/06/style-escapes-afternoon-inspirations.html

Be well.

Chipotle Tacos at the Park

I am all about accepting the easy way out and will take any window that presents it self to enjoy a possible unexpected view. So, when I began to make up a little something-something, and still searching for the one thing to make it all become one, I realized there was a single choice that could be fun. A cup of fresh chipotle salsa was what was left to wait in the fridge, and I just could not stop staring. Grabbed all the fresh stuffs that were lingering in the bowl and chopped them all up. I splashed on the salsa, stirred it all around and paused, while I remained craving more.
The tortillas were stacked high and warm in front of my eyes, so tossed a few on the stove. I turned the flame on high, walked away with a smile, and turned back to see my demise. I smoked up the place to no surprise to my guests, and I was reminded that I do it each time. No time to sulk, no reason to scream, I set my self on a plan. Whooshing about, I opened all the windows, packed it all up and let the door slam behind me. Off to the Park to get some fresh atmosphere and share what I could salvage. A flush of fish found us interesting, and so did the swans, as well as a couple of love-bird-turtles in tow. Our toes tucked in the cool grass, the sea air wafting around, the sun high in the sky, with a slew of soft clouds floating by. Together we shared in the moment of happy "mis-takes" that continue to make our creative impulses show up in disguise and forge a new path of brilliant rewards of surprise.

Here we go:
Chipotle salsa...No, do not make your own. Take it easy.
Phone it in to your local taco stand and call it a day.
I am really not that ambitious; I'd rather go play.

Cucumber
Radish
Red onions
Pink Lady apples
Cilantro
Olive Oil
+ Flour tortillas if you wish ;P

Be well.

Hoarding Quietly Among The Harem

Any one who arrives at my desert tent is always waved in with a welcome and well fed.
A tempting buffet of fruits and nuts and spices lay openly about, available to all who may feel the hunger from their journey. Bowls and platters and jars remain willing and waiting for the taking with suggestions of more to follow.
Guests are invited to stay until they are fat and full and fall into snores, only to wake up aroused, yearning for...another round of flavors, and textures and more.

There is a time however, when I suspect all the eyes of the harem are distracted...
I sneak a bite.
I never share.
I would not think to pull out a plate.
I hover instead over the sink.
Over ripe peaches dipped in a hand full of Sumac, this is my private treat.
Sandy texture atop my fresh flesh and juice that tap dance on my tongue.
... it is the cinnamon on my breakfast toast.
... the salt rim to my virgin Margarita.
...the Nori flakes on my hot bowl of popcorn.


A simple pleasure I reveal... virtually,
so that you too may covet it for your private muse.

In exchange I request only that you shimmy over and offer up a similar,
soul-searching-source of satiable inspiration.

What secret-something-snack do you keep all to your Self and no one else?

Caramel Apple...Salad?!

What happens when you want dessert for dinner?
How low will you go?
Do you give in to the urge to slather on the sugar?
Will you go with out?
Do you savor your salty tooth?
Do you suffer through?

This is what I do:
Pink Lady apple, slivered
California Dates cut slender
Dried Figs to do the same
Pecan added to the mix
Red Mezzula baby leaf lettuce with a rich "nutty" taste!
Grape Seed oil
Sea salt
Balsamic Glaze/Crema!...to sweeten the bowl.

Pile on the proportions as you see fit.
Mix up the offerings too..
Fuji apples, olive oil, Arugula, golden raisins,any dried fruit.
However the Dates + Balsamic = Caramel dreams come true

Do think I can stop my Self there?
My appetite for rich warm flavors can hardly waver there...Oh, no!

I grab a small tower of Gingersnap cookies until they are nothing but crumbs.
Then I chased it all down with a giant mug of "Big Black" = Earl Grey + cloves + honey
... Ya I'm a double-bagger, so what!

Do what you like. Do what's good for you...and Smile.