beets! lately I have been into beets. shaved some raw chioggias into a salad with kale, dried fruit + nuts, crumbled sharp cheddar & a mustardy vinaigrette. a wintry assemblage–sharp, rich and jewel-toned.
Didion has always been both an artist and a muse. I admit that I, too, have wistfully admired her elegant little packing list.
when I lived in New York years ago, and was young and sylphlike, I wore jersey sweatshirts, a-line skirts and flats almost exclusively, and tromped about the respective Villages even though I lived in Harlem.
when I moved to New York, not from it, my sister gave me a copy of this brilliant essay. it is perfect, applicable to both falling in and out of love with a city.
Didion is a master of writing on the self, about the things we know, the observable and observed, and the things we can only feel.
I wrote more in New York. I wrote about the sun & air on a certain day, a certain street. about eating bagels on stoops, funny old philosophers wandering the Columbia campus, pizza and fruit stands.
I wrote about how by exploring a bright, odorous, loud, difficult, beautiful, ugly, exciting city, I was exploring the self.