But young Jimmy Stewart is muy caliente

[feldman]

Yesterday's chili is quite tasty, but I perhaps used too much beer to deglaze the pot after browning the meat.  The other flavors meld well in the actual dish, but the dirty bowl left over is pretty aromatic of Oktoberfest.  Not if you sniff it head on, then it's spices and meat and tomatoes, but wafting about a foot away is pure beer tent.

I have now tried a second time in my life to watch "A Philadelphia Story" only to drift away early on and let it play ignored in the background.  I think I'm just bouncing off of Katherine Hepburn, who's too jaw-juttingly breezy to carry the story set-up for me.  I shall prevail.  I got my speech parsing wetworks to handle "His Gal Friday" (loved it!), I can conquer this.

This Bob Ross remix makes me quite verklempt, and I choose to believe that's because of the optimistic creative belief it expresses, and not the fact that my period is imminent.  What good is the cycle for, if not to add variation and needed chaos into our observations of the world?  We can't always inhabit the painful sensitivity of those days before the oven engages self-cleaning mode, or sustain the ballsy can-do momentum of the jiffy-pop ovary twins.  So we rotate, checking the view through each lens in succession.  Perhaps I am normally too jaded or dismissive of the messages of the Bob Rosses of the world.  And so I take this time, when my bust feels about to bust, to listen to the happy little trees and clouds, and maybe, just maybe, believe that creativity can be play again.

Happy.  Little.  Clouds.

Comments

[monanotlisa]

Perhaps I am normally too jaded or dismissive of the messages of the Bob Rosses of the world. And so I take this time, when my bust feels about to bust, to listen to the happy little trees and clouds, and maybe, just maybe, believe that creativity can be play again.

Indeed. (Aww.)