À la Recherche du temps perdu . . .

 

I took what is becoming an annual tradition for me, a late-October stroll around Missoula to catch the leaves.  Incredible carpets of leaves throughout the University Area.  

For me, fall is a time that inspires reflection.  A "Remembrance of Things Past."

It's Official . . . Fall Has Come to Northwest Montana

This past week my forced air heater and vented fireplace were serviced, the sprinkler system was blown out and shut down, and I flirted with re-water-sealing my decks. 

It rained all day yesterday - a steady gray drizzle that hinted at things to come.  Folks were holed up at the coffee house where I work (while searching for my perfect library job), sipping hot concoctions and greeting one another with bonhomie.  Cozy, comforting and familiar.  It's autumn in the Flathead.

My Newest Musical Discovery

It's Daylight Savings!

It's Springtime in the Rockies!  As I look out my window, I can see parts of my yard that have been hidden for a couple of months.  The sundial that our Aunt Elma gave us in the Sixties has emerged from its blanket of snow.

Yesterday I discovered a new singer, Alycia Lang.  Her covers of The Bangles' "Eternal Flame," and The Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" are incredible interpretations . . .  poetic and poignant.  

And so, this first day of Daylight Savings finds me sitting shirtless on my back porch steps reading my Kindle and savoring a Sunny Hours Sunday!   Happy Springtime!

My new favorite thing . . .

Of late I've been enjoying the pleasures of Pandora.com music on the Net.  For the uninitiated, it's a wonderful free music utility on the web that allows you to create various "radio stations," using criteria like artist or genre.  It will then automatically select music that might fit that profile (using its Music Genome Project) - some of it I like, some I don't, but it allows me to fine tune the selections to suit my musical tastes. 

It's a little like belonging to a book club, since it introduces one to music and musicians that may not otherwise be experienced.  So, it helps expand my musical horizons, which is good since I want to begin to learn new music to play on my guitar and sing. 

Like most freebies on the Internet, it comes laden with ads, but if you fork over the BUCK$, the ads go away.  Cool Raoul!

A quick and humorous moment . . .

I know, I know!  I've been remiss in posting to this blog.  I'll try to do a posting soon, but, as a stopgap, today's Monty comic made me laugh.  So, I'm passing it along (makes me wonder what using a Popiel's Pocket Fisherman might add to the mix!):
http://comics.com/monty/2010-10-22

"These are a few of my favorite things . . . "

It's a beautiful, gray fall day in The Flathead.  In a bit I'll be on the road to Virginia City, MT, to see one of the final productions of the Brewery Follies for this season.  I have been indoctrinated only recently into this bawdy onstage romp - very funny and I highly recommend that you plan to see it next summer if you're in the lovely Ruby Valley, or anywhere in southwest Montana!

Tomorrow night I'm going to Butte to see road show musical version of  "The Color Purple" with my friend Sam Maloney at The Mother Lode Theater.  I have never read the book (I know - shame on me, since I'm a librarian) and haven't seen the movie in years.   Looking forward to the experience.

Lastly, I am becoming interested in the work of Montana artist Russell Chatham.   I love his sensibility of landscape minimalism, boiling down a scene to spare elements.  A lot of his work reminds me of the California Impressionists.  Since he's originally from Marin, California, perhaps that did influence him.  More likely, the direct influence was from his grandfather, Gottardo Piazzoni, who worked in the California Impressionist style.  Regardless of his technique/style, I'm enamored of his work.  Don't know whether I can afford to buy his stuff, but my late partner Charles always said "buy what you love."  Words to live by!

Men on Films . . .

There's a light dusting of snow on Big Mountain, which I can see from my living room window.  Fall seems to have taken hold of the Flathead Valley, even though we're shy a week from the official start of the season.  A quick Google search has placed the Atumnal Equinox at "Sep 22 2010  11:09 PM EDT," which places it around nine in the evening here in Montana. 

Regardless, the weather definitely has made a turn toward autumnal.  By far it's my favorite season.  There is a sense of melancholy that I find familiar and oddly comforting. 

Last year at this time I was beginning the process of culling through Charles' things, an act which ultimately would culminate in getting our townhome ready to sell and me leaving San Diego for Montana.  It was a poignant, bittersweet time - the second fall that I was alone since Charles' death.  

So, as the days shorten and I prepare to settle in, I find that I'm surrounding myself with staples and "fuel" for the upcoming months - including the essentials of good books and movies gleaned from my local library.  I'm currently reading a book by Alexander McCall Smith called The Unbearable Lightness of Scones (from The 44 Scotland Street series)  This is the first of his books that I've read, even though I saw my library customers checking out his The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series, I'd never been driven to read them.  However, while visiting my Whitefish branch, I discovered the Scones book on the display shelf, was taken with the title, and brought it home.  It's a fun read and McCall Smith definitely knows how to put words together. 

Ah, movies - Aside from reading, what better way to insulate oneself!  I already mentioned watching "Coco before Chanel."  I just brought home Letters to Juliet, (this one I actually rented from a vending box in my local market).   Okay, okay - I admit it, yet another so-called "chick flick!"  But, I love anything that has Vanessa Redgrave in it AND this film has the extra added bonus of seeing her paired with Franco Nero again - as some of you may remember, they were cast together in the 1967 film version of Camelot, she as Guinevere, he as Lancelot du Lac. 

Juliet was filmed in Italy in Verona and the outlying areas.  Beautiful cinematography and the storyline about fifty-year-old unrequited love satisfied my autumnal teariness quotient.  Definitely worth a watch, if you find yourself in your own version of fall reflection. 

Nuttin', Honey . . .

I've been doing a lot of late, but mainly it has to do with traveling within Montana to visit a guy I'm seeing.  Perhaps more about that as time goes on.

I just finished a great movie called "Coco Before Chanel" starring Audrey Tautou (of "Amélie" fame).    I've always been intrigued by Coco Chanel and I love anything that has Audrey Tautou in it.  Highly recommended!  Beside, Alessandro Nivola, who plays Coco's English love interest, Boy Capel, is a knockout!  Don't let the name fool you - he's an American.  An interesting aside is that he learned to speak French for this role.  Amazing!  Being a Franco/phile/phone, I am duly impressed.

Love, Labor, Lost . . .

"Les Feuilles Mortes"

Since I'm currently "between engagements," I am feeling a bit on the lost side this Labor Day.  For many years I've always been working or going to school when Labor Day came around on the calendar.  This year finds me in the peculiar predicament of being unemployed.

Yes, I chose to leave my library management gig in San Diego in favor of the less hectic and demanding climes of Montana.  For several months I've been content just to get myself situated up here and, truth be known, I've have been revelling in the freedom to sleep in.  That being said, I am coming to realize that I need some structure and routine to my life (other than getting up at 8 a.m., feeding my surly Siamese cats, and quaffing coffee).  To paraphrase Mr. Wizard to Tooter the Turtle, "Drizzle, drazzle, druzzle, drome, time for this one to find income!" (apologies for the asinine assonance)

I have been using my local branch of the Flathead County Library, which in ways has made me long for library work again.   I've just finished Lunch in Paris: A Love Story with Recipes by Elizabeth Bard.   Quite a delightful book, with some similarities to works by MFK Fisher, Julie Powell, or Julia Child.   I do find it odd that, being a rather ambivalent cook, I am drawn to these "foodie" confections.   I also love watching Ina Garten - she always approaches food with a sense of such fun and passion.   

I may as well enjoy my labor-less day and take a walk in the autumnal air.  The weather in northwest Montana really has turned toward fall, with some maple leaves already turning crimson.   Plus ça change . . .

My Cousin Dawnia's Music Video . . .

My cousin, Dawnia Dresser, is in a duo called Vertigo Road.  I just rediscovered this video on my computer desktop last night and thought that I'd share it with all and sundry.  Being a musician myself (albeit a lapsed one), I admire their talent and artistry.   Hope that y'all will enjoy it!

Of an Evening in Late Summer . . .

Greetings, Blogophiles! My "VV" key is still dead, so you'll have to bear vvith my makeshift double-vees! 

My day vvas a lazy one.  I've been reading "Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Svveet," by Montana author Jamie Ford.  The plot revolves around a Chinese-American boy, Henry Lee, and a Japanese-American girl, Keiko Okabe.  It's set during VVorld VVar II and also in 1986.  The VVorld VVar II sections are set directly before and then during the internment of Japanese-Americans in detention camps around the U.S.  It's very poignant and, yes, bitter-svveet.

If I'm not in the Blog-Zone, I most likely can be found on my Facebook page.  Facebook seems to be a convenient and reasonably painless vvay to keep people current on any significant - or, more likely, trivial - happenings in my life. 

I'm off for a vvalk on this beautiful evening in late summer.  The sky is blue, shadovvs are lengthening, and the colors are vibrant, Technicolor-esque!  I must go partake!

So, ciao for niao!

Return of the Prodigal?

Thanks in part to Tina Rathbone's blandishments, I have returned to the BLOGOSPHERE! I've been settling into my Montana digs nicely and feel that it's home.

This post will be brief, since I am "W"-less!  My regular laptop succumbed to some sort of malaise and is currently an inpatient at the local computer doctor.  So, I'm using my vintage 2000 Gateway Solo computer which just lost the spring in its "W" two nights ago.  Until I discovered the XP On-Screen Keyboard, I had been substituting tvvo "V's" for "VV's."  Actually, the "V double-U's" are kinda cool-looking!

As I write, there is a definite breath of autumn in the air.  Certainly we'll warm up to be summer-esque again for a while, but seasonal change is imminent! 

Fall is a season of melancholy, at least for me.  But I actually enjoy the poignancy of the autumnal reflective mode - long walks in crisp smoke-scented air.  Besides, my birthday is in October and my favorite holiday is Thanksgiving! 

There!  I feel better having added an entry!  Thanks, Tina, for the gentle nudge!

"Time passes slowly up here in the mountains . . . " - Bob Dylan

Lima, MT

I have been in Whitefish for three days.  Each day it feels like a bit more of the weight from the past couple of years falls from my shoulders.  I stayed at Jan's Cafe and Cabins on Friday night.  It's close to the Continental Divide (note the snow on the mountains) and was the perfect place to spend my first night in my new home state.  The photo above is of a stream that runs through the small town of Lima, MT.  I sat by this stream and reflected on my journey and my planned arrival in Whitefish the following day. 

And now I am home.  I've been focused on getting myself established here, attending AA meetings and staving off the loneliness that I know accompanies a move of this consequence.  Phone calls back to friends in San Diego help.  But, it's necessary for me to embrace the loneliness as part of the process - very similar to the grieving process, actually.  There can be solace in solitude.  I'll try to remember that in the coming days and weeks.

The Hesitation Waltz

Hmmmm . . . two entries in as many days' time. I amaze myself.

I definitely am doing my own version of the Hesitation Waltz as I prepare to leave Charles' and my townhome and San Diego. Am I making the right decision? Will I wind up regretting my move and leaving my friends our shared history behind?  Will I be able to make a go of it in Montana?  Will I meet a great guy up there who loves being in the Rockies as much as I do - someone whose sense of paradise leans more toward mountains and less toward beaches?

Charles used to describe me as "poor conflicted Jack." In many ways, he's right. I don't know whether it's a Libra trait, a Jack Albrecht trait, or just a human one for me to hem and haw, to deliberate and to over-analyze my decisions. I just know that's how I seem to have operated all of my life.

The etymology of "decide" is literally "to cut off," (de- "off" + cædere "to cut"). It has to do with resolving to do something and taking action. So, perhaps my state could be termed, more appropriately, INdecisive. I've heard that Charlie Brown is a Libra, a bit on the wishy-washy side and a worrier. Good grief! ;)

A Soft re-Entry

Downtown Whitefish, Montana

For the few among you who have encouraged me to pick up my laptop and continue entries in my blog, I've decided that it's time. I began this blog thinking that it'd be Didion-esque, a la "The Year of Magical Thinking," where I would track my journey through grief-land. The reality was that I was just too involved in getting myself through than sharing my feelings with all and sundry.

My therapist says that I am safely on the "other' side of grief. I agree, but also know that the death of someone close changes you inextricably and profoundly. I wouldn't want it any other way ~ it's a continuing tribute to Charles and his memory.

Today's will be a short re-Entry. Perhaps part of the problem was that I had no clue or inspiration about how to proceed with this thing, but I think that I do now.

I have been cleaning Charles' and my townhome in preparation for its sale. Of course, this set me on a journey through long-stashed boxes, winnowing through the stuff inside and rediscovery of things forgotten. Among those things was a poem I had written almost twenty years ago for a guy I was dating. I figure what better way to resume this blog than by posting this poem. I'm not really one to write poetry, but I was rather impressed with this, even if it's mine ~ but, perhaps I'm just easily impressed!


for S

if I were a poet
I would gather similes
like sheaves of wheat
comparing you to some bardish fancies
beguiling you with my come-hither glances
I would charm you, disarm you
with odes and sonnets
rhyme couplets as florid as Easter bonnets.

but, alas, my bent is of stodgier fashion
than forger of meter, iambic of passion
what my words cannot say
might be best left unsaid
will you sense by my touch
what's locked safe in my head?

Jack Albrecht, 12/12/1990

A beautiful day at La Jolla Cove

I can't believe that my last entry for this thing was way back in early December. My journey through grief has landed me back in the land of the living. I am beginning to embrace life and all of its possibilities again. I spent part of this Sunday morning with my friend Dave exploring La Jolla Cove. It's comforting to be able simply to savor the beauty of a clear spring day on the California coast.

W.H. Auden's poem pretty much says it

A friend of mine from work reminded me about the following poem by W.H. Auden titled "Funeral Blues." I remember that first time I heard it was in the movie "Four Weddings and a Funeral." A great poem, true to the emotions that inhabit the bereaved, but tempered with a wry sense of humor that prevents it from becoming maudlin.


FUNERAL BLUES

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. H. Auden

Memento Mori

The title phrase cautions us that we are all mortal. It's All Souls Day. In the Catholic religion it's a day to remember friends and loved ones who have died (there's more to it, actually, involving Purgatory, but we'll just keep it simple).

My friend Dave's mom passed away today. My partner of 15 years died in June. Since that date, I've noticed that I am much more attuned and sensitized to the experience of dying. I've had a couple of friends who have lost close family members over the past several months. I've also been reading Mark Doty's book, "Dog Years: A Memoir," which speaks to the experience of living and dying and the relationships and bonds between humans and dogs. It's quite wonderful and has been a great comfort (and source of tears).

At the memorial gathering for my partner Charles, I chose to have a floral arrangement evocative of the Baroque Vanitas paintings, spefically those of Rachel Ruysch. The subject matter of this style of painting includes symbolic elements that remind us of the temporary nature of life - a dragonfly, a bubble, a clock, a burned-down candle, and sometimes a skull. The description sounds quite morbid, but the renderings are quite lovely, I think. Above is a photo of the admirable creation my forist did using only the computer print-outs I provided her. Since I couldn't preserve a bubble, I used an old glass fishing net float that belonged to Charles' parents. On the top of the two books is a bunch of rosemary, which symbolizes remembrance. The clock serves to symbolize two things - that Charles loved to travel and the time that he died, 7:01 a.m.

Halloween - Tricks are for kids?

I seem to be lacking the gay gene for loving Halloween. Each year when we were young kids, our mom would make costumes for the three of us. When our dad was not away on military assignments, he would also join in the fray, designing rather sophisticated costumes, including a robot for my brother, complete with a mechanized "radar" antenna; butterfly wings made of coat hangers and tissue paper for my sister; and for me a devil costume (how appropriate) made entirely of red paper fabric. Remember paper clothing??? Probably not the best thing to be wearing around flaming pumpkins.

As the years have gone on, I have found myself less and less enthralled by the holiday. Perhaps it's because I did theater for so many years, where I got to dress as other characters on a daily basis. Perhaps I just grew tired of the holiday. I can't determine when I began to feel ambivalent about it.

I do know that autumn is my favorite season. My birthday is in October. My favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, is in the fall. I've always embraced the gentle melancholy associated with the season, most likely because I see fall as a reflective season when nature is preparing for its winter sleep. I love the colors of harvest, the gourds, the smoke in the crisp air. And, I love pumpkins - but prefer them in a pie rather than on my doorstep!

From top to bottom: My brother Bruce in robot garb, 1960; me in my paper devil costume, 1960; my sister Cheryl and Bruce in homemade bunny outfits, me in a store-bought pirate getup, c.1961. Why I chose not to have a homemade costume that year is a mystery.