"It’s also the name of a geologic era, an epoch if you will…Most of our lives feel like these epochs. That’s kind of what that song’s about. ‘Once I knew I was not magnificent.’ Our lives feel like these epochs, but really we are dust in the wind."
If we give what we treasure most to a Being we love with all our hearts, if we can do that without expecting anything in return, then the world becomes a beautiful place.Orhan Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence
September 19, 2014
San Diego, CA
Rediscovered: childhood tunes, circa 1990.
As a six-year-old, I thought Stone Poneys was the best band name to ever exist. 24 years later, and that thinking hasn’t changed.
The Stone Poneys: Different Drum
Perched atop Jacobs Hall at UC San Diego, sits a house that looks like it has fallen out of the sky. The seemingly haphazard placement of this one room house is no accident, though. What I thought was a structural engineering experiment, is the latest addition to the Stuart Collection of my alma mater.
Intentionally tilted at a five degree angle, the house reflects artist Do-Ho Suh’s "on-going exploration of themes around the idea of home, cultural displacement, the perception of our surroundings, and how one constructs a memory of a space." Given that UCSD becomes “home” to thousands of students every year, the construction of a space that looks like home but doesn’t immediately feel like home, makes perfect sense.
September 20, 2014
Bird Rock, CA
High tide, and decent breaks.
The Band: The Weight
Take a load off.
In 2013, I spent Labor Day weekend with friends in Pawleys Island, a magical stretch of the South Carolina coast, located between Charleston and Myrtle Beach.
It was a simple four days. We woke up early, watched the sun rise out of the ocean, bought groceries from the local Piggly Wiggly, cooked all our meals, and did yoga on the roof of our beach house. Days were spent swimming in the ocean, and dreaming and reading under a big umbrella. Evenings were spent cooking, watching movies, and having long talks over too many s’mores about everything and nothing.
Looking back at these photos, I remember some moments very clearly: the sense of awe I felt seeing large oak trees covered in Spanish moss for the first time; early morning rays reflected on the water; the heavy embrace of humidity so thick that I imagined slicing into the air as if it were a layer cake; chess pie from my friend Josh’s family’s bakery; eating cheese straws while riding in the back of a golf cart; Marigny poaching eggs for all of us one morning; dancing in the water; and understanding why Pat Conroy made South Carolina the setting of nearly every novel he wrote.
More than anything else though, I remember that weekend as a time spent with friends that reinforced so much good in my life that I couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything - the good and the bad - that led up to it.