The Artist







Anna's sketch rendered reality in a fashion shoot. 

 

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Organizing a Past

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ORGANIZING A PAST. Bathing and helping my wife in the bathroom is nothing that ever comes easy, but it’s a breeze in comparison to the task of organizing her dresser. This is what they call a “Fiddle Box” in Alzheimer’s parlance. Even a full-time caregiver is limited to what can be done with a person who has lost the ability to focus. The Fiddle Box is a place a patient can be left alone to spend hours screwing things up without doing much harm. For Anna, this is an altar at which she stands endlessly moving bits of her life around willy-nilly; expensive jewels, gloves of Spanish leather, scarves from India. My wallet is missing of a sudden, so this is one of those times when order must be restored and to do so is to pass through our life together. There are a thousand garments in different storage places around the apartment. I am trying to liquidate but can’t bring myself to throw away anything she designed. Anna was a prolific fashion designer. She not only had her signature Anna Hu...
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Pet Store on Washington Blvd. Anna and I tried our luck with rush hour in L.A., by slipping out at 4:45. It worked. In under half an hour, we cruised to home court - Marina del Rey - where the waves were not good. When you are surfing frequently, as we are this summer, it’s not the end of the world if you get a bad day. There will be others, soon. So I swooshed around for an hour, getting in touch with my board, thinking of Bruce Lee’s words: Tacos "al pastor." “Empty your mind. Be formless, shapeless, like water…if you put water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Water can flow or it can crash. Be water my friend.” I caught two waves, which is one more than any surfer is asking for. You don’t want to get shut out. If there aren't always good waves, there are always street tacos and we tried a stand at a desultory spot where Sepulveda and Palms intersect. It didn’t have the clean, colorful Mexican feel our prior streateries did, but it’s street tacos. You gotta take a ch...
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We braved serious rush hour traffic and arrived in Hermosa Beach at around 6:30 p.m. Hermosa is in the South Bay, "the Bay" being Santa Monica Bay. It is very large, reaching past Staircase beach (Surfin’ Safari Day 8) north and a few miles past Hermosa south, some 60 miles total. Just 20 miles south of Los Angeles, Hermosa cultivates the same hermeneutically sealed beach culture all such towns do, down to Imperial Beach and the Mexican border. I lived in Hermosa for three years after my expatriate turn in Spain, desiring a provincial existence within reach of the city so I could sell literature. Might as well have been on Mars, for I was one of few in town who had anything to do with L.A. I worked as a script reader for United Talent Agency. Then I did it for Creative Artists Agency. It was before e-mail and I had to drive up Sepulveda into Beverly Hills every afternoon, pick up the scripts, read them at home, and return day next with breakdowns. Movie agents don’t read scri...
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