|Sandy Mastroni's Moon with a knowing look in its eye.|
|Paperways large notebook, French grid pages.|
We notebook fetishists, for that is who we are, not simply appreciators, too passive a title, really do lust after any bound collection of pages in which we can sketch, doodle, jot, muse, record or write. We can discuss pens and mechanical pencils another day.
Yesterday also brought reasons for gratitude, the first being an ability in my better moments to be in love with what may seem under-valued treasures. In no particular order from January 6, they are:
*A bag of pears from Trader Joe's that smelled the ways pears ought to smell but rarely do. Heavenly.
*The sample dabbing of "Femme" Parfum de Toilette from Surrender to Chance which could still be detected more than 24-hours after application. I have not found that to be true of any other fragrances for many, um, moons. What they say of it at the site:
Rochas Femme was created at the height of The Depression by Edmond Roudnitska, at the request of Marcel Rochas, and it was to be a gift for Rochas' wife. The story has it that Roudnitska created Femme while while pondering a rubbish dump and a paint factory. Olivier Cresp reformulated Rochas Femme in 1989, and there are two distinct versions, the post-1989 version bringing in the cumin note. This scent is full-bodied, said to be inspired by Mae West, and it shows. There is nothing of a young girl or ingenuie in this scent. It's a perfume that's been around the block and now has the whole block following her like the cats following that little thief in "Love Potion No. 9."
Read more: http://surrendertochance.com/rochas-femme-older-vintage-pdt/#ixzz3OAI4Lmye
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*Being quoted in an interview with friend Claire Beynon amidst words from, among others, Claire, Pablo Neruda and Wendell Berry. I swooned with delight. Article is in "Down in Edin" on-line magazine, found here.
*The warmth and comfort of higher temperatures in Los Angeles, one degree short of the record 85 degrees. On New Year's Day the noontime high was somewhere near 40, had been 33 at 8 a.m. I do apologize to those with windchill factors that dip below zero. Some of us are hothouse flowers.
*The joy of seasonal fruit, particularly how easy mandarin oranges and navel oranges are to peel.
*Taking a nap.
It was the scent of pears that caught me the most off-guard, such a delicate, distinctive sweetness, almost watery yet not vague.
We are meant, I swear, to fall in love with everything we possibly can. If it could take form, I would dance with the way pears smell.