My Saturday began at 4 a.m. I woke to go to the bathroom and decided instead of returning to bed, I'll go outside and look at the sky. This weekend held the potential to view the Leonid meteor shower. I love shooting stars. I admit I felt slightly self-conscious standing there in a nightgown, neck craned upward, scanning the constellations, because for the first time since I've been here, there were guests in the main house, presumably sleeping- an authority on weeds, and her husband. Just when I was about to give up and go inside, I saw a whopper and then a couple more. It was getting light when I finally went to sleep, satisfied, and slightly crippled from looking up so long.
Saturday afternoon I left Big Sur for Sand City and civilization. (If that's what you want to call Costco, Starbucks and Borders book store.) Got photos developed, hard evidence that Big Sur IS the most beautiful place on earth. Bought a book about the history of Carmel and you know what I got at Starbucks. Afterward I wanted to go to a reception for artist/photographer Kim Weston. I met him and his wife Gina (subject/model of much of his work) at Nepenthe last week. But I couldn't find the gallery. Kim is son of Cole Weston, grandson of Edward Weston (proof positive that the eye for photography is genetic, all puns intended.)
Sand City is a strange place. I think it used to be Ft. Ord. What's not a warehouse, car lot or sand dune, is a resting place of many, very large seagulls. They line the telephone poles, street lights and rooftops. Periodically, they take flight in huge swooping arcs, the sight of which would be poetic, were it not for the voluminous bird shit falling from the sky. I thought someone had pressed a giant pansy on my windshield. (Sorry Westons, I'll try to visit the show before it closes.) Later I was commenting on this to Erin Gafill who informs me "you don't know shit until a condor poops on your car. It covers the vehicle from the front to the back bumper."
Arrived at my friend, Judy's house just as the sun was preparing to set over Carmel Beach below. Orange, magenta, scarlet and purple sky framed by Cypress trees, Monterey pine and stone cherubs.
Sunday morning's highlight was the art lesson I gave to Judy and Mrs. Murray when they returned from Mass. It was how to mix gray and beige tones, and to neutralize colors. Returned to Big Sur, which is beginning to feel like home, painted, wrote this (twice...internet disconnected before I'd saved the first version) and now, I'm going down the hill to go to sleep.
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There is a color the sky becomes at days end when the sunset is a brilliant one, that is somewhere between the ending of the blue and the beginning of all those fiery yellows and salmons. It is a color too elusive to paint, yet I see it in my head whenever I remember my favorite sunsets.
Andrea
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