Feast Your Eyes on Our Feast

We show up to our friends house to feast.


We know we are in for a blazing treat.


We spy our chef commanding the kitchen stage by stomping his feet.


We run to the table and scramble to our seats.


We sing "Grace"! in unison to give thanks for this amazing retreat.


We are delighted by the simplest dishes, our taste buds accede.


We devour everything, pouring and splashing, leaving nothing neat.


We stay amused by the company we keep.


We talk of fun times and try to recall screaming, "how did we meet"?


We scavenge and scoop and dip and dig as our spoons meet.


We cheer and clank and chatter on about what is still to achieve.


We cherish the sounds that abound as roosters and mules greet.


We never resolve to stay polite, and instead find each our own soap box speech.


We wander away upstairs in search of some quiet relief.


We spy the powder room mirror to see what might remain in our teeth.


We realize the bed is calling us over to carry us to sleep.


We cheek kiss and bear hug, and grab our keys.


We head out the gate, so thankful we found all that we came to seek.



Metal Art Work: Mark Silka

Fall in Love at The Getty

There are so many ways to find and see creative genius.
With each Season brings a new perspective, another attempt.
We show up with one intent, and discover another.
We stand up searching the walls, and end up laying down and looking up, to an unexpected point of view.


Lucky am I to find my way to an ocean filled with a collective of high I.Q.
Learn as I do, the mind plays, and shares, and stumbles, and rebounds.
The super human real life heroes, travel with simple and humble egos.
Ambition abounds with delight and obsession but, never self right.


I peek around to see if there might be anyone else with eyes popping.
Anyone else with heart thumping?
Anyone else with pulse racing?
Around the corner I spy, something more than cake topping.


Spooning, cuddling and petting, smooching and touching.
Breathing and reaching, yawning and stretching.
Chinese, we say Ching-Ching.
Around here we say kissing.


There are more who are sipping, and tasting, and gulping.
Manners are flung, along with arms over head, and legs over another.
Mindful of nothing but time and space and sense of place.
Cups flowing, plates folded and napkins crumbled, ice slowly melting.


Freedom felt only surrounded by a crowd who is cooing.
Babies are strolling, and sucking, their parents wishing.
Wishing they could stay there longer too, just doing nothing.
Freshman taking photos, tourist listening, and still spirits running.


The Getty Museum, Los Angeles

How To Seed and Skin a Pomegranate

This is fast and easy to harvest a fall of pomegranate seeds.
Lukewarm water bath. Place big bowl inside the sink.


Slice Pom in half, under water.


Turn flesh inside out and pop seeds out.


Anything that floats, gets pushed over the edge,
and discarded into the waiting sink below.


Transfer into colander and let drain. Voila!