Coffee Conscious

Something that has been on my mind for years now is WASTE. I can't stand how much people waste without even thinking about it. Now, I know, I know that things are getting slightly better. The world is becoming more 'green' and sustainability is in fashion. But still. There are so many people in the world and the thought of how much waste there is, multiplied by what I witness on a daily basis, is mind-boggling. It is like thinking about how many galaxies exist by comparing our world to one grain of sand/or one galaxy out of a long stretch of beach. Yikes! How can people sleep at night with all of these problems?  Well, probably because change cannot happen overnight.

Maybe I should take my concerns down a notch. What I want to do is make change first-hand on a small scale. The cafe I work at has great potential to save more. This is why I have implemented the sleeve-saving basket pictured above. That is not very significant, but there is more to come. I am researching the topic to accompany an essay along with a photo journal of some sort of minimalist art project. All of it will be made as a statement saying, 'Look! You can make a difference!' And even if it hardly changes things at least it shows that you can do something positive rather than waste or complain.

*Photo taken by Andrea @ Milk & Honey.

Pennies From Heaven

I'm feeling pretty broke these days because my dreams are fuller than my pockets. At least Pennies From Heaven sung by Louis Prima momentarily makes up for my gloom.

Visual Aid

Fleet Foxes: The Shrine / An Argument via For Me, For You.

Safety

What ever happened to the passion we all had to improve ourselves, live up to our potential, leave a mark on the world? Our hottest arguments were always about how we could contribute. We did not care about the rewards. We were young and earnest. We never kidded ourselves that we had the political gifts to reorder society or insure social justice. Beyond a basic minimum, money was not a goal we respected. Some of us suspected that money wasn't even very good for people--hence Charity's leaning toward austerity and the simple life. But we all hoped, in whatever way our capacities permitted, to define and illustrate the worthy life. With me it was always to be done in words; Sid too, though with less confidence. With Sally it was sympathy, human understanding, a tenderness toward human cussedness or frailty. And with Charity it was organization, order, action, assistance to the uncertain, and direction to the wavering.

Leave a mark on the world. Instead, the world has left marks on us. We got older. Life chastened us so that now we lie waiting to die, or walk on canes, or sit on porches where once the young juices flowed strongly, and feel old and inept and confused. In certain moods I might bleat that we were all trapped, though of course we are no more trapped than most people. And all of us, I suppose, could at least be grateful that our lives have not turned out harmful or destructive. We might even look enviable to the less lucky. I give headroom to a sort of chastened indulgence, for foolish and green and optimistic as I myself was, and lamely as I have limped the last miles of this marathon, I can't charge myself with real ill will. Nor Sally, nor Sid, nor Charity--any of the foursome. We made plenty of mistakes, but we never tripped anybody to gain an advantage, or took illegal shortcuts when no judge was around. We have all jogged and panted it out the whole way.

I didn't know myself well, and still don't. But I did know, and know now, the few people I loved and trusted. My feelings for them is one part of me I have never quarreled with, even though my relations with them have more than once been abrasive.

This excerpt is from Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner.

Photo taken by Andrea at the Back Bay, Newport Beach.

Electric

I saw this at the General Store in San Fran a few months ago and I am still thinking about it! Called the Andrew Berg Lamp, this great design is featured in all the mountains...

A Place to Live

Even though--both of us knowing you could die any time,
both of us wanting to believe when you said this would be
the place you'd come to if you could--I seldom
come here and wait on this log turned almost into stone.
Even though keeping our word was life between us, given
all that in trust, still I seldom walk under these trees,
redwood and eucalyptus, the branches of Monterey pine
over the path opening farther than we could see the morning
you told me you'd surely try to come. I've tried being here,
stopped and stood quiet to see if you would make it, but I'm
always either too early or too late and just miss you, in time
only for a voice that tells me living my life's a way of being
faithful. Even though the trees keep changing and love is
behind or ahead of me in the clearing I trust as I trust
this ground: the duff and dark needles underfoot, the light
through high green lace pulling the trees into the sky.

--Jeanne Lohmann

Following Fall

I love these images from Lena Corwin's blog ~>O<~ . Just in time for the cool weather! Being in Southern California, I can only imagine what it must look like & how crisp it must smell on the East Coast.

Shelf Life

One's personal library is an intimate matter. It takes patience, willingness, and love to cultivate such pieces like War and Peace, The Sun Also Rises and The Sound and the Fury. There is patience--because a library for the literary will never stop growing. The search for the right edition or author is half the fun. Willingness fits in everywhere the reader goes. For example, a personal collection will accumulate as its owner travels, discovers, and seeks new writers. There is a willingness to lug a five pound novel, along with a 30 pound bag of fruitless belongings, from the Outer Sunset in San Francisco to the Berkeley hills in the rain at 11:30 PM. Love is the easiest of all and does not need to be defined.  Those without passion for literary ownership wouldn't see a dusty unofficial copy of Where I was From in the Santa Cruz bookstore, Logos, and carry it 300 miles back home with joy.

I am a lover of books. A personal collection, I believe, is sacred. Though, James Wood of the New Yorker writes quite the opposite in this week's edition. He makes the valid point of collectors who purchase books for its shelf life, without reading them. We all do it. How can we possibly read every single Russian, French, English and American 19th century novel while still allowing time to have a life outside of books? But admiration for these authors is important. Do we really want the internet to take over all print sources? Even for the sake of books we don't get to read start to finish? Though we may not complete each individual book we own, they all remain in a very sacred part of our hearts--as part of the soul.

*Photo taken at the UC Berkeley Social Welfare library by Andrea Dumovich.

From an Irishman

 

 

 These are some quite divine designs by Nigel Peake via the Needles and Pens Gallery. I am ready to check out his book called In The Wilds, which came out this past April. Oh yeah, did I mention he is from Northern Ireland and leads a 'simple' life! Sign me up for the next book signing! 

This last photo I took when I first discovered Nigel at the General Store. Once again, thank you San Francisco. 

Hippie Wedding

Samantha Hahn's parents probably didn't know how cool they were at the time. Getting married in such a nature-loving fashion can't be replicated today without reflecting the past. Hippies...Sigh.