Ashes and Snow
March 31, 2006
O Best Beloveds, when one becomes the answer to life, the universe and everything (scroll down to Pop Culture), and one has had chemo the day before and thus doesn’t feel in a particular kick-up-the-heels mood (the second time Dr. W. has done this to me; he has a lot to answer for, though I suppose his response would legitimately be “Like your last eight years, Cancer Chick”), one still can have a lovely day containing chocolate chip pancakes, a short stand at the edge of the ocean, and a trip to see the “nomadic museum” of “Ashes and Show,” which is the real reason for sending this email, to urge all of you in the LA area to go see this remarkable exhibit before it leaves on May 14, and for those in other towns on its tour around the world to go if it sets up near you. Contained in a temporary cathedral like edifice (would Our Lady of the Angels, the ugly yellow armadillo that passes for LA’s central cathedral, was as beautiful) constructed out of storage containers, paper columns and fabric with wood and river rock underneath, a soaring and near-holy meeting of the industrial and the natural worlds, it’s a series of photos showing a balletic and spiritual interaction of man and nature and I can’t do it justice, except to say some of the photos and certain scenes in the films moved us to a teary silence with their love and grace. (Pack, make a point of going, and Debi, it’s really worth it for you to make the drive down, and Brigid, you probably saw it in NYC but if not, take the time when you are in town next week.)
And now, Steve is making me homemade lobster rolls. A fine day, I tells ya.
Ain’t nothin’ but a number,