An image that's been haunting me since my visit to SFMOMA last week is Tina Modotti's closeup of Jose Antonio Mella's typewriter with a bit of his political writing in it. He was a young Cuban Communist activist assassinated in 1929 while walking in Mexico City with Modotti. He is still considered a hero in present day Cuba because he tried to "internationalize" the Party. After his death, Modotti was arrested and held by the Mexican police as a suspect. It's a long political story: Mella, Modotti, writers, photographers, Diego Rivera, Communists, artists, Revolutionaries. An interesting one. I sort of added my reflection into the photo behind glass so maybe that's why it's haunting me today. Like stepping into a parallel life that I've always been fascinated with, minus the politics; those times in Mexico were intense with creative types. So, if I were brilliant like Woody Allen (Midnight in Paris) I would write myself into a new story about those times. But, alas, I am not.
Instead, I'm leaning into this life of solitude and writing, where my outside commitments have dissolved into a thimble-full and I'm faced with the tyranny of the blank page. Which, honestly, isn't a problem because I love to fill blank pages. The challenge comes in filling them with something worthwhile still being sought. And if it eludes me? well, la de da (or slit my wrists).
so what's she doing there?
I take long walks, feeling more fit each day, if you discount the damp cold seeping into my arthritic bones and the shock to my system from the city rat I saw last night. I know cities are rife with them (I read that somewhere) especially cities near bodies of water. But still. Walked all the way to the Cannery, was nearly run down by weekend tourists, but managed a latte on a bench overlooking the glorious Bay. The Cannery, part of Ghirardelli Square, really doesn't have much going for it except history and location. It was built by Del Monte as a peach-canning plant in 1909 and remodeled a couple of times in recent decades. The guide books tout shops, restaurants, galleries, but (sorry) the choices were pretty uninteresting - except maybe for the chocolate shop and Lola's, which sells good blank notebooks (and souvenirs) and has a nicer stationery shop in North Beach....
Told Ron I had a date with a good-looking younger man one night. He sighed and said he hoped it was with my nephew. It was and I met up with James for a delicious dinner at Luella, an upscale neighborhood restaurant where a few years ago, when I was last here alone, I saw a Ben Stiller film being shot there. Back then, at night, I walked my friend's gorgeous golden retriever and the film crew always stopped to talk to us (mostly they talked to the dog). I never saw any movie stars. Anyway, James and I started talking and didn't stop for three hours. It feels so good to be reconnected with one of my favorite people. And in a couple of days I'll visit his new cafe over in the panhandle area. (I'm turning into such a local! (have no idea of how to get there).
City living is such a kick (rats notwithstanding). I actually had a Thai dinner from a great restaurant, delivered to the door last night. Can you imagine! Delivered. To the door. The only place that delivers in Taos is Dominos and only within town limits. Oh yeah, and a glass of wine, followed by a bubble bath with candlelight. sigh!
there would still be time enough
Henry James (Wings of the Dove)
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