Thursday, March 19, 2015
At the Dale Chihuly exhibition at the Denver Botanic Gardens, I walked from the Perennial Walk to the Monet Pool to the Japanese, Montane, Licac, and Rose gardens. In each, blown glass sculptures intermingled with the landscaping. Vermilion prongs rose up from a bed of basket-of-gold and lilies. Mauve prongs rose out of a lake. Spidery, succulent-like glass of every color grew out of water or among ferns or sage bushes. Royal blue spheres floated down a river and ones of bright yellow, orange, and blue piled into an abandoned boat. A Willy-Wonka, Alice-in-Wonderland fantasy world of nature and art.
Saturday, March 7, 2015
We'd just eaten a lunch of fried cod and lemonade at Malibu Seafood and were driving back to Los Angeles on the Pacific Coast Highway. We wanted to get closer to the ocean, so we found a place to pull over and parked. The beach there was all rocks and old cement blocks. We tottered over them while taking in the view. The cars roared and the waves crashed. The air smelled like salt and, just a little, rotting vegetation. Everywhere I looked I saw lines: the coastline, the ocean abutting it, the highway, and a line of wooden posts, water- and wind-worn, holding up the ghost of an old pier.