I don't know which way to go. Any advice?

Posts Tagged ‘Love

A Love Story

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I’m ready to start writing again, but where to start…

How about here: Last night I saw Dark Passage at the Noir City Film Festival at the Castro Theatre. The theater is always beautiful and the film was delightful. Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, mystery, murder and the streets of S.F. a la 1947. I’m certain that everyone else who has declared their love for San Francisco also finds it enchanting to see the city on the big screen. All those white buildings, impossibly steep hills and sweeping shots of the Golden Gate Bridge. It’s like hearing a song written just for you.

On the way to the movie, we were caught in traffic amid a downpour. We parked sideways-style on a steep hill, and I nearly slid all the way down when my worn boots hit the wet sidewalk. Pile of leaves clumped at the crosswalks; trash was littered and ground into the pavement. We were drenched by the time we made it to the theater. I had begun to regret coming out on a Friday night in the rain. I couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to go to a movie in the rain in a different place, where there are parking lots and less people everywhere.

Then the organist started to play. I could see the pipes sparkling through the massive grates on either side of the stage as the keys woke them, one bold sound after another. By the time the projector rattled to a start and the lights dimmed, I had already fallen back under the city’s spell.

A place that you love is a lot like a person you love. For every moment that you feel absolutely crazed, there’s another time when you know — absolutely, unequivocally know — you’ll never leave. Not yet.

{image via}


Written by ditheringmiss

January 21, 2012 at 12:12 pm

Posted in San Francisco

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Words of Wisdom

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“What young people didn’t know, she thought, lying down beside this man, his hand on her shoulder, her arm; oh, what young people did not know. They did not know that lumpy, aged, and wrinkled bodies were as needy as their own young, firm ones, that love was not to be tossed away carelessly, as if it were a tart on a platter with others that got passed around again. No, if love was available, one chose it, or didn’t choose it. And if her platter had been full with the goodness of Henry and she had found it burdensome, had flicked it off crumbs at a time, it was because she had not known what one should know: that day after day was unconsciously squandered . . . It baffled her, the world. She did not want to leave it yet.”

Olive Kittredge, Elizabeth Strout

From Sunday’s book club. So good. We all loved it. We all loved the world a bit more.


Written by ditheringmiss

September 13, 2009 at 10:24 pm

Candid, Imperfect, Real

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Us 003

This picture. I love it.

We were each having a very bad day. We had done a lot of moping.

We wanted to test my camera’s self-timer. We didn’t know it took three shots in a row. It turns out we were both making a goofy face. This is the third shot, the moment we caught each other making faces.

It’s not a very good picture at all, but I think it captures something. I’d like to think it does.

Written by ditheringmiss

September 3, 2009 at 10:21 am

Posted in Life, Me

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