What We Might Plan, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:24am

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This summer, exhausted and gritty–as are we all after 2+ years of pandemic–and determined to See People, I made plans. First, Princeton reunions with my son. Then Laguna Beach with good friends. Then a long weekend in LA, where Sue worked with me on a color palette for my skin tone (so much more precise than having my colors “done,” don’t you think?”)

And on that same long weekend, I spent time with my two kids. My son, who lives in LA now, found us an Airbnb in Silver Lake; my daughter flew down from the Pacific Northwest. This place was way cooler than me, that’s for sure.

There was a pool.

Hey, LA.

My son took us first to a gallery somewhere urban. (LA remains a mystery to me, a circus behind pink doors.) They walked ahead. I admired.

The art felt like a gift from the universe for many reasons. I’ll leave you to supply your own.

Rainbow roof with tall redhead.

And then we went for lunch in Koreatown, something I’ve been dying to do, and ate food I’ve never had before.

That night, some of my family who also live in LA came to visit. We cooked out, sat on a deck, drank wine, talked about I absolutely can’t remember what. It was as though we were truly neighbors, which, there’s little I would like more than to have family as neighbors.

Planning can yield wonders and disappointments, both. I had planned another visit to a friend, but she’s ill. Not seriously, but enough that we had to pivot and I won’t see her this summer. We might think of planning as bloodless, but in its own way it’s as juicy and surprising as impulse. For better or worse.

Have a wonderful weekend. Whatever you’re doing, I now believe art or an open sky can make it better. Or both.

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