Tuesday, April 29, 2014

On Morning Magic

Photo by Nancy Dushkin
LA is a hectic city to call home. I find mornings to be the best time to steal away a few quiet moments before the madness of the day begins.  I experience most of my quiet moments at Griffith Park right when the sun is coming up.  During the week, I usually get there by 6 am.  Sometimes I am alone and sometimes with my boyfriend.  We run the winds and twists upward while experiencing the first light of the day.  The sunrise can be muted hues of sooty pastels or blindingly bright, but it is always magnificent.  

You see, running is my antidote to all bad things of life--fatigue, stress, too much candy, too many grad school student loans, too much sitting at the office.  I collect my thoughts when I run and I let them go.  

Running for MAC and me has, at times, become a social experience.  People that we see everyday begin to expect us at Griffith slogging up the hill.  If I am solo, they ask me where my partner is.  Little by little the procession of people we pass along our grand ascent has begun to be a part of our mornings. They say hi.  They pump their fists.  They encourage us, "go, go, go!" We are now implanted in each other's morning schedules.  I know where to expect them on the morning route--I use other people to gauge whether I am running late or cruising ahead of schedule.  We depend on each other and it is really something so simple and so nice.  Positive salutations in the midst of solitude. I tell you, mornings in LA are truly magic and I hope to see you out there.  

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

On the Quotidian

I highly recommend the Caprese.
I try to leave the office for lunch every single day.  I like to talk a walk, find a sunny, clean, grassy spot, and take a little break from the du rigueur of being a young professional.  My moment of midday bliss usually involves a fresh sandwich from Bottega Louie as pictured here.  

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

On my Home

I am about three months out from seeing family and a little bit homesick, so I wanted to post some pictures from my last trek home.  

I am was born and raised in Northwestern Connecticut in a very small town called Sharon.  It is finally beginning to thaw after a very long winter. My parents live in a very old farmhouse down a bumpy dirt road, and, yes, we have a red barn.

Growing up, I spent every waking moment possible outside.  Now when I go back, I live in my bathing suit and my running shorts and a baseball cap because my Dad always asks me to wear one (to protect my skin).  The only time I act civilized is when I take the Harlem line into the city from Wassaic.  Otherwise, I drive barefoot, leave grass in my hair, and dirt underneath my fingernails.

From my office sky-rise in Downtown LA, I romanticize about my hometown.  I bet it is probably a blustery, cold day of freezing rain, but in my fondest memories Sharon is lush and bright and pristine and it will always be home to me.