The Grateful Hedonist

Things I'm Grateful For

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 18:17:00 +0000

Family, given and chosen
Generous neighbors
Good health
Peaceful home
Freedom
Diversity of life
Art and technology
Laughter and irreverence
A sense of awe
Dreamlife adventures
Creative spirits I've connected with this year

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Eating My Way Around Tokyo

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 02:57:00 +0000

Greetings from Tokyo!

Each time I return I vow to explore more and have more variety in my adventures...yet I can't help but be lured by the endless varieties of top-notch food available here. When presented with the opportunity of an unforgettable culinary experience, all else seems to fall by the wayside as I follow the next red lantern or aromas of yakitori.

I'm just starting to catch up on blogging, but you can view posts on my travels on my Tokyo blog, here.

Autumn in Central Park, New York

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 02:16:00 +0000

It was a bit early for real fall color, but last week Manhattan was stunning nonetheless. Still warm, with hints of the full autumnal splendor to burst forth in the coming weeks after the city undergoes her seasonal costume change. Volumes have been written about the diverse wonders of New York City, so I'll devote this post to a short and sweet homage to Central Park.

We only had three days to explore, so that limited our meanderings in the park to the south end. This was enough to get a taste of what a rare refuge this park is. It is a sanctuary of lush gardens, serene water, graceful bridges and inviting pathways, as well as the occasional quirky attraction to surprise you, such as an ancient obelisk or charming children's zoo...all to be found in the middle of a thriving (and sometimes overwhelming) metropolis.

According to the Central Park website, the park has never been more beautiful or so well maintained as it is now. In its more than hundred-year history, the park has experienced cycles of neglect and misuse. The 1990's brought about the beginning of positive changes thanks to the Central Park Conservancy's efforts to restore the park to its former grandeur. I love the old-world feel to it, as this is hard to come by in the States, and especially in California.

Wandering through the meticulously kept grounds last week, I couldn't get over how deeply peaceful and rejuvenating it was, and how much there was to discover. I could see vestiges of time in every corner, yet the energy was fresh and vibrant. It's a refuge for everyone, so makes excellent people-watching: the solitary reader, picnicking schoolkids, the artist, the jogger, the musician, the overworked financier, the elderly couple on their regular walk, the newlyweds and their photographer, the dogs and their proud owners, the many visitors from afar.

I think the park sustains the soul of the city. Manhattan would be a lesser place without this man-made historic landmark hewn from rock and swamp, shaped by history. It is also a good reminder of how vital greenery is to our well-being.

I'll let the photos above convey the rest. Also, check out the Central Park website, it's filled with interesting information.

Colors of Comfort

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 06:18:00 +0000

Our summer has been overshadowed by the after-effects of a small house fire that we experienced in mid-June. Our dryer caught fire in the middle of the night, filling the house with smoke and triggering smoke alarms that jolted us from a deep sleep. Thanks to the alarms, the fire extinguishers we keep on hand, Thomas' quick thinking and our good fortune, we caught the fire just in time. Our entire house and outdoor bar area are made of wood, so it's a miracle that the house itself did not start burning, because that dryer was a charred hunk of metal, melting the linoleum floor beneath it.

Anyway, this small fire caused a surprising amount of mayhem. It took weeks for a cleaning team to take care of smoke and fire extinguisher dust damage, to have most rooms repainted and the linoleum flooring replaced. It was too much chaos in our home, making me realize the utmost priority (for me) is order, peace and lack of clutter in the home.

Well, in addition to the many lessons learned (less carelessness; more appreciation and caution), we did score new washer/dryer and new interior paint out of the stressful ordeal. I was happy with our old paint, but we had no choice but to redo most rooms because smoke apparently clings to flat paint. We had to make quick decisions on which colors we wanted for six rooms, and this in itself provided a whole new meaning to the word pressure. For days we deliberated, pondered, argued, perused paint sites and stores. I bought a couple of dozen paint samples for our bedroom alone. I wanted something fresh and uplifting. One day we were certain, then the next morning, waking and seeing the swatches I'd painted on the walls the day before, we would balk and wonder what the hell we were thinking.

This experience led to some interesting observations on color and the effect it has on our moods and states of mind--not just the actual hues themselves, but the names we give them, and the identities or ideas that we associate with them as a result. The various home interior industries have cleverly concocted evocative names in order to present even their most ho-hum colors in a more enticing manner. Of course this manipulation isn't lost on any of us, and for me has actually always been a source of fascination. The thing that surprised me was how influenced I was by those names, almost beyond reason.

For example, take our master bedroom. A very important room for obvious reasons, a space that is meant to be restful and sacred to our life together. A room of comfort, where we want to retire and be enclosed in the warmth of the perfect shade of pale amber or golden sand. The original paint was a neutral, very pale celery color--nothing exciting, but inoffensive, and soothing in its predictable sort of way. In other words, a color you never really noticed.

We wanted to warm things up and add some character. During the whole after-fire ordeal, I found myself continuously drawn to pinks. Anybody who knows me knows I am not a lover of pink; I never wear it and you'll find none of it in my home. But I kept thinking: aah, pale coral, soft peony, a hint of warm clay or fading sunset. I picked paint samples at Home Depot with names that imparted a deep sense of comfort or exotic escape: delicious names such as Guava Jam, Coral Serenade, or Florida Mango. It had to be just the right balance of coral-sand-shell-mango, closer to an earthy terra cotta (but pale), not too bright, not too rose, not too gaudy or girly or cheesy.

I have to admit, I was repeatedly more drawn to certain colors over others because of their names. The image conjured by Autumn Mist, for example, was so much more appealing than High Plateau. And as hard as I tried, I couldn't get myself to even sample something as pollyana in tone as Rosy Outlook or as little-old-lady as Antique Cameo. I tried not to be swayed by the names but couldn't help myself. I wanted to be able to say, "my room was done in Lush Melon." Was it my writer's ear that made me react so strongly to these names? My self-conscious blogger's voice? My overactive imagination? Or the fact I was under duress, desperate for a getaway, and needed to create more soothing surroundings? Probably all of the above.

And in the end, all of these colors were nothing more than pink to my husband's eyes. No matter how much I tried to skew his influence by calling a color Sahara Sun, to him it was pink. He just didn't want a pink bedroom.

So for the bedroom, we chose the same neutral yellow-tan that we painted the living room and dining room: Ripe Wheat (yellow is uplifting yet comforting to us both, it seems), and at the very last moment had an accent wall done in Chai Spice - which turned out to be a very appetizing burnt orangey, pumpkin pie color. (And, I love the name.)

By the way, if you are in the midst of having to make similar excruciating decisions about interior paint, I highly recommend checking out Behr.com for inspiration. Their excellent site lets you shop for colors and redesign virtual rooms with various color combos. Onscreen colors aren't the same as actual, but fun to play around with and get ideas. Just don't get too caught up on what the colors are called...

Indulging Your Inner Princess in Vienna

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Fri, 22 May 2009 23:06:00 +0000

Scene on the Graben

Blue Bar at Hotel Sacher

Horse-drawn carriage

People-watching at Café Oper Wien

Cake display at Demel

Hotel Pertschy

The nice thing about repeat visits to a travel destination is you feel less obligated to do all the touristy things like attend the symphony or visit museums. You've done most of it already, so you can move at a more leisurely place and get a better feel for living and lounging like a local.

In April I took my fourth trip to see in-laws in Vienna. I enjoy Vienna's charms more with each visit. I'm not sure if it's the type of city you appreciate more as you age, or if the city itself has become more tourist-friendly and ravishing to look at, or a combination. I did, however, find myself wandering the streets and sitting at cafés for hours in a sort of dreamy glow. I finally figured out it's because Vienna, for a tourist like myself, is like living in a fairytale. It's the kind of place you imagine existed long ago and far away in a charmed kingdom where horse-drawn carriages clip-clop down cobblestone streets and there is no end to the marzipan delights. Vienna has been voted one of the world's best places to live, and it's obvious why.

Again, this is my simple viewpoint as a Californian who didn't grow up among palazzos and towns boasting a proud history going back hundreds of years. So, for an Americana, Vienna is the place to go to indulge your inner princess. I spent a week sipping champagne in plush rooms lit by chandelier, nibbling whipped-cream covered concoctions in stately cafés, people watching at cozy coffeehouses and admiring beautiful things at every turn. It seemed like every other shop in the city center offered chocolates, gourmet treats, shoes or lingerie. And, Vienna loves dogs, so your precious pup is welcome almost anywhere, even restaurants. But if you become oversatiated by all this opulence and indulgence, there are countless intellectual inticements in this city of high culture: just choose your preference of gallery hopping, book browsing, museum gazing or opera.

We stayed at the Hotel Pertschy, an elegant, inviting bed and breakfast converted from an old baroque palace. It's located in the center of town, tucked away on a peaceful side street, just a stroll from Stephansplatz. Through your window, you could hear the horses clopping along the street below. I loved waking in that room each morning to see the pink ceiling overhead, the chandelier catching the light, feeling like royalty, wondering if it would be too gauche to have cake for breakfast.

There was no need to go out for breakfast because the surprisingly reasonable price of the room came with a delectable buffet that had me rising at uncharacteristically early hours. I've never had bread, cake and other baked treats like I've enjoyed in Vienna. Fresh rolls, grainy brown bread, fresh-baked semmeln, chewy pretzels, strudels and tortes, cake like we can only dream about here. Nobody does cake like they do in Vienna. We had a few memorable dessert moments, but our experience at the renown Demel was the pinnacle. An absolute must for cake lovers.

Other musts:

Brezel-Gwolb for casual traditional dining in a quirky, gemütlich wine cellar (Rick Steves describes it as Tolkienesque)
The Stadtpark (City Park) for afternoon strolling with the locals
Historic Hotel Sacher's Blue Bar for cocktails and top-notch service in an all-blue salon
Do & Co's Onyx Bar for drinks in a hip lounge with a stunning view of the awe-inspiring Stephansdom
Dorotheum auction house for art and antique shopping (or to just browse)
The Secession to view Klimt's magnificent Beethoven Frieze, with the Naschmarkt just a block over for fresh produce, ethnic foods, or a relaxed lunch
Café Hawelka for coffee with the bohemian crowd
Kunst Haus Wien to ogle Hundertwasser's eye-popping, ecologically-minded creations (there was also a fabulous Picasso exhibit when I visited)
The Prater for old-fashioned amusement park fun, where you can ride the Ferris wheel made famous by The Third Man, visit the haunted house, or picnic on green meadows
Julis Meinl for high-end gourmet gifts like designer water, 400 cheeses, fruit-shaped marzipan or imported sardines
American Bar designed by Adolf Loos for martinis in moody surroundings done in luxe marble and onyx
and pretty much any sausage stand for a quick beer and taste of local street food.

Whatever you do, don't forget your walking shoes. The best way to get the feel for any European city is to spend time roaming and getting lost.

Leonard Cohen and His Tower of Song

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 17:13:00 +0000

It was 1987 and I was 21, living in Tokyo, when a black and white music video came on TV. A sonorous rumble of a voice started singing, a voice I'd never heard before, rolling like thunder through my tiny apartment. I was smitten, riveted to the screen, like I'd been struck by lightning. The song was "First We Take Manhattan" and the voice belonged to Leonard Cohen. The next day I went out in search of this song, and paid a lot of yen for "I'm Your Man" on cassette. I played that tape till it started warbling with overuse.

I finally got to see Leonard Cohen perform this song live, last night at Oakland's Paramount Theatre. Watching him sing with no less passion than he had twenty years ago took me immediately back to my own past, living as a girl lost in the big city. It was definitely a high point in my existence, last night sitting in that historic art deco theatre, watching this living legend perform before an adoring and grateful audience.

The glowing, spectacularly ornate Paramount, shimmering like a gilded temple for dreams lost and found, was a strangely ideal setting for this spiritual poet/singer to channel his visions on life, death, love, longing, and searchings of the heart. Cohen's songs are like stories that lure you in, and he sings with such humble wisdom about humanity in all its wonder and fragility that you feel lifted and understood, and yes, it's okay to be where we are because all is as it should be, and nothing lasts forever anyway. You walk away with a bit more compassion after hearing this man and his words, at turns heartbreaking and humorous, self-effacing and provocative, dark and light.

We were treated to three encores, and many words of thanks and bows from Cohen going out to his band, to the angelic vocalists, the audience, the crew, even the "lady who takes care of our hats." His energy lingered with me throughout my sleep and when I woke the first thing I did was go online in search of the music video I saw way back in the 80's. That's when I learned (from user comments) that Leonard Cohen is on the currently released Watchmen soundtrack, allowing another generation to discover his music. Hallelujah!

Mendocino

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 16:19:00 +0000

A glass of Edelzwicker in the vineyard

Picnic in Navarro Vineyards

The beautiful sea

Deck with ocean view

The MacCallum House Inn

Breakfast at the MacCallum House

Driftwood covered beach at the headlands

Bloody Mary's at Dick's

Shops on Main Street, Mendocino

The Moose Cafe

Driftwood on Big River Beach

We've been visiting Mendocino for years, our favorite nearby getaway that's become a place of many wonderful memories. It's still astonishing that driving just three hours north of San Francisco takes us to a place that is so peaceful with a faraway feel, and has much to offer in terms of natural beauty, comfortable lodging and excellent dining. Each time we go back we're thrilled to find much of the little town and surrounding areas relatively unchanged.

Driving along 128 through the beautiful Anderson Valley, we always stop at Navarro Vineyards. We love this place so much we once thought (years ago) about holding our wedding there, until we decided the logistics of gathering everyone would have been difficult. After tasting almost everything on their list including fruity-crisp Chenin Blanc and luscious late harvest Riesling, we purchased their fabulous Pinot to take back, and a bottle of their delightful Edelzwicker for our picnic on their grounds.

Most of our previous Mendocino visits took us to our standby homey cabins at Fools Rush Inn, which were located in Little River, about a mile south from the town of Mendocino. This is where we stayed on our very first trip together, many moons ago. Our beloved Fools Rush Inn was recently sold, however, and after renovation has become a more updated property called Cottages at Little River. We decided to try someplace new, so at our friend Vijay's recommendation we stayed at the historic MacCallum House in town. The main house is a beautiful Victorian overlooking the sea, but there are a variety of cottages and rentals that are a part of the estate.

We stayed in the charming renovated barn house, just across the lawn from the main house. Our room had a plush bed with huge fireplace, and a deck with ocean view. Our bed came with a wonderful breakfast which we enjoyed with cheery service each morning on the main house's expansive sunlit porch. We also had dinner one night in the cozy and romantic MacCallum House Restaurant, where I had meltingly delicious seared kona kampachi and oysters with a Bloody Mary granita. Again, wonderful service, friendly staff. Considering we also received a two-nights-for-one deal through internet booking, the entire weekend was a worthy experience.

We started off our mini-vacation with massages at Mendocino Massage, just a couple of blocks from our lodgings. Couples can book simultaneous massages, and we experienced our fifty minutes of soothing bliss in their lovely garden gazebo.

In town, a variety of shops offer books, decorative items for the home, new age knickknacks, handmade candy. One shop I enjoy looking in just to see beautiful things for the home is Golden Goose on Main Street. I recommend it if you feel like blowing some cash on one-of-a-kind glassware or imported linens.

Our second night found us dining at the Moose Cafe, where you can always count on a well-prepared seasonal, affordable menu in their warm wood-floor dining room. The cafe was almost packed and we were lucky to get a table without reservations. I had a wonderful white bean soup that I could go for right now.

Two other places we have to visit are Dick's Place, a colorful local's hangout featuring awesome Bloody Mary's and the only neon sign for miles, and Patterson's Pub, which is an atmospheric Irish-style pub that feels lived-in but is a relatively new establishment (we remember when it used to be a video rental shop). Patterson's is good for a pint and comforting pub fare with a game of dominoes or dice, if you can ignore the six plasma TV's (on mute, though).

I haven't even gone into the many beaches and other natural splendors that abound in Mendocino. You're just surrounded by spectacular vistas at every turn. There's really something for everyone: tidepooling, kayaking, hiking, whale watching, botanical gardens, beaches covered by driftwood or sea glass. We always vow to stay longer next time, there is so much to see and enjoy.

Happy New Year - again!

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 22:03:00 +0000

We get to celebrate twice! Check out our Okinawan festivities on my other blog.

Happy New Year

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 00:04:00 +0000

New Year's has always been a significant holiday for my family. It's an important time to celebrate and feast in Japan and Okinawa, and our mom carried this tradition over for us as kids. We were permitted to stay up until midnight on December 31st, watching special Japanese programming on TV and eating and drinking, and at the stroke of 12 we clanged pot lids together and shouted out our front door. January 1st meant more food and partying with our family. In Japan big year-end parties happen during the month of December, and many businesses close the first few days of the new year.

The past few years our oshogatsu (New Year) celebration has been held at our house, where family and a few of our closest friends gather for feasting and sharing cheer. It's a time to let go of the old and welcome the new, while recognizing what's important to us. Here's to a fresh start, and a new year of good health and happiness for all.

And lucky us: we also get to celebrate in February, when Okinawans recognize the lunar new year as well. More fun, food, festivities.

The Dickens Christmas Fair

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 19:12:00 +0000

An elegant salon gathering.

Strolling in old London.

Lovely little hats.

Gingerbread rats.

A Punch and Judy show.

The little girl and the street mime.

For the love of gin.

The Gin Girl on show.

Chimney sweeps have a sip and a gander.

Leather masks of birds and beasts.

Victoriana for sale.

Peddler for the bewitching Green Fairy.

Entertainment and flavors from the Silk Road.

An explorer.

"Spirit of the Goddess" merchant.

Selecting the right adornment.

Fit for a fairy princess.

Ladies linger at the pub.

Enticing, inedible cakes.

If you're like me and my sister and have always been drawn to the quirky charms of the Victorian era, you must take a trip to the Dickens Fair next December for a visit to Christmas Past (sorry to say it's over for this season).

The Dickens Fair is a recreation of Victorian-era London set in San Francisco's Cow Palace, complete with lamp-lit streets and bustling market areas. You'll encounter common citizens, merchants and artisans, chimney sweeps, live mannequins, street urchins and orphans, various dignitaries including the queen, explorers with steampunk gear, alongside many eccentric characters straight from Dickens and other literary works of the time.

There is much humor and fun to be found throughout, with a bit of everything for everyone in the family - the bizarre or irreverent, the beautiful or traditional, the tasty or intoxicating. You can dance the waltz at Fezziwig's, listen to carousing sailors sing at the docks, watch a Punch and Judy show or belly dancers at the Silk Road stage, buy exotic gifts such as ladies' hats adorned with plumage. Or munch freshly roasted sweet nuts from a paper cone, lunch on fish and chips, sip a cup of hot mulled wine or knock back some ale. This year they even featured an absinthe merchant for those yearning for a visit to the green fairy. One of my favorite things was the cookie shop which offered gingerbread rats with frosting x's for eyes. I also loved the stunning handcrafted leather masks, and the magical tiaras fit for a fairy princess (see photo of my niece Amalia adorned in one of these head ornaments).

A good proportion of people - visitors and participants alike - were dressed in elaborate costumes of the period, milling about in gowns and fancy hats in quaint shops, chatting and debating about events of the day. You can participate by attending workshops in advance where you learn characterization, and are trained to speak in "Victorian" or Cockney, depending on your class.

Every year we hope to attend in costume but haven't been organized enough so far. Maybe next year we'll be more prepared to venture into Dickens' London appropriately attired.

Holidays in The City

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 03:10:00 +0000

There really is truth to the Petula Clark song "Downtown" - whenever I'm out of sorts and the world is looking a little lackluster, a trip to the city is just the refresher I need. Particularly during the holidays, when the pressure to be cheery and upbeat despite economic or other woes can become a bit grating on the nerves, the best cure is to lose yourself in the crowds, lights and energy of one of the most beautiful cities on earth. Don't even think about shopping or other obligations...just wander, window shop, have a glass of bubbly, "linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty," and watch people go by.

And who says we have no real winter in San Francisco? There's an ice skating rink right on Union Square, adjacent to the palm trees and Saks! If you don't mind sliding all over the ice and making an ass of yourself in front of spectators, it's fun, romantic, and will put you in holiday mode for sure.

Enjoy the season.

Gratitude

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sun, 30 Nov 2008 18:06:00 +0000

Things I'm grateful for:

Family and friends
Health and home
Freedom and peace
Creativity
Fritzi and Oscar
Living in the Bay Area
Memorable feasts
A room of my own
Kind neighbors
A sense of humor
Thomas and his magical wine cellar

Obama Wins

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 13:51:00 +0000

Mind-blowing, historic events we witnessed last night! I'm still in disbelief. I just woke from a nightmare that it all never happened, that we hadn't actually elected a new and inspiring leader for our ailing country. Obama's win is a huge, monumental thing, like a dream most of us never dared hope might come true.

I keep wondering what it's like to be African American right now. And also I wonder, would Obama's win have been possible without today's technology? Without millions of young people all over the country having the instantaneous ability to voice their thoughts and influence each other via Facebook, Twitter, texting, YouTubing, emailing, blogging? The very technology I am using to write this blog probably helped put our new president in office. It's amazing.

It's also being said that Obama is the first truly global president we've had. He has an African heritage, a Middle Eastern name and spent part of his childhood in Asia. And not to forget his background in Hawaii! It's little wonder he exudes aloha spirit to all corners of the world. His election has received a tremendous response of joy from all over, even in a tiny village in Japan called Obama which is proud to be his namesake.

We have ventured into an exciting new era. A cloud has been lifted from us, it's like waking from a long, bad dream into a new world. We now have a charismatic and eloquent leader who challenges us to do better. I think this is the most important factor: he may not be perfect, but he clearly has the power to make people listen and motivate them in a positive way, especially young people, but also older, more pessimistic people like myself. You hear this man speak about hope and dreams and you actually believe him.

So many reasons for celebration!

Photo: SF Gate

Happy Halloween

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 00:59:00 +0000

The kitties were especially frisky Halloween night. I love this time of year...atmospheric, fragrant, changing colors, excitement in the air. Halloween especially, we get a chance to explore our playful side and be a little wicked. Then of course, there's all the candy you only get to eat once a year.

Clearing Clutter

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 03:25:00 +0000

Where has the summer gone? Here it is, already the beginning of autumn. Another favorite season of mine. I love this time of year right now, when we still have some lingering Indian summer days, but leaves are just beginning to change, and nights are cooler, made even more peaceful by the chorus of crickets. Plans for festivities and holiday gatherings start to take shape and there is a growing excitement in the air.

I started a new job in August writing/editing for an internet startup (a new movie database), which is why I haven't been able to add many new posts on my blogs...I really miss it! We've also been busy organizing and decluttering our home, as well as renovating various parts such as the deck. So I've had two things foremost on my mind lately: movies and decluttering.

As soon as I made up my mind to declutter starting with my own room, I was at a bookstore one day and came across an inspiring book by Karen Kingston called "Clear Your Clutter With Feng Shui." It's not too heavy on the feng shui, but touches on what kinds of clutter we cling to and some of the reasons why we hoard things, and also the effect it has on our lives and well-being. Often times holding on to unneeded material possessions indicates being stuck in the past, or a lack of faith in our future or in the universe to provide for our needs. Clearing clutter helps clear our minds and helps free energy in our lives and our environments.

Kingston offers one good guideline to decide whether you need something or not: if you haven't used the item in a year (I cheat and sometimes give myself a couple years), chances are you don't need it, and it's time to release/recycle the object and let someone else get use out of it. Or, look at the item, and if it's not useful or loved, then get rid of it. Or if you have negative associations with it, get rid of it. This book has inspired me to rid of some things I've been clinging on to for decades with that "just in case" attitude (I'm particularly bad about hoarding paper clutter and clothing), and although I've just begun, I already feel so much better by letting go of some things, as if I can think more clearly. There was some trauma involved with digging things up and letting go, but I was more than ready, and it was a fascinating experience to come face to face with some things I've just buried and neglected for ages.

For those of us who hold on to paper, files of articles, clippings, magazines and so forth, it helps to know that practically every type of information one might need is out there on the internet nowadays, or exists in digital form. It makes it much easier to decide what to toss. At any rate, I highly recommend the book to anyone who feels daunted by their own attempts at downsizing.

I'll talk more about movies on future posts.

Slow Food Nation 08

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 17:32:00 +0000

The Bay Area food community has been abuzz about the landmark Slow Food Nation event at San Francisco's Fort Mason this weekend. We were lucky enough to score invites to the opening gala last night, and it was spectacular. The most fun with food we've had in a while.

Every detail of the event reflected the passion, commitment, hard work and creativity shared by everyone involved. The presentations were of the topmost quality, informative, innovative and inspiring. As we wandered from exhibit to exhibit within the Food Pavilion, we didn't feel overwhelmed by too much information, and the excitement was palpable.

It was like being in a dream, an extravaganza for the senses. I can't even choose favorites from the event. Everything was so impressive, from the giant Arcimboldi-esque snail created from bread (the snail being the Slow Food logo), to the initial salumi exhibit that greeted you when you walked in, to the elegant and minimal serenity of the tea tents.

The message of sustainability and the slow enjoyment of quality ingredients was conveyed through art, sound, scent, flavor, conversation. Exhibit designs were done in an eco-friendly style with the flair of quirky sophistication you'd expect from San Francisco. I loved the use of hundreds of colorful milk crates as a backdrop for the cheese exhibit, or the back-lit bottles of golden-green olive oil that created an unexpected nightclub sexiness. A great balance of down-to-earth accessibility, witty design and thought-provoking creativity.

The organizers managed to cover most important food categories, in my opinion: bread, pizza (with pizza ovens outside!), salumi, pickles, seafood, cheese, chocolate, tea, wine. Hopefully my photos capture a bit of the atmosphere.

Photos from top:
Giant snail made of bread; banners outside the Tasting Pavilion; awesome fresh-made sausage and rapini pizza with bubbly; fancy meat slicer; out-of-this-world mortadella; diagrams of animals parts; cured meat; amazing rack of meat on display; Japanese-style pickle (tsukemono) exhibit; basket of mini musubi; salmon-stuffed musubi with tsukemono sampling; delicious ume-boshi; cool sea urchin lamps; chocolate exhibit; cheese; olive oil bar; tree resting area; spectacular seafood; elegant tea tents.

Music, Motion and Memories

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 18:31:00 +0000

I just loved it when our friends Deb and Blake told us their New Year’s resolution was to dance every day—they dubbed 2008 “The Year of Dance.” I decided it was a worthy resolution that I’ve secretly been trying to keep. You may catch me in my studio, playing music, and spontaneously getting up from my desk to engage in some solo goofy dancing. It pulls me out of my routine and gives me the energy boost or mental shift I might need.

Most of us don’t dance enough, even though it goes hand in hand with music. Music in itself can be an instant anti-depressant, but when you get up and move around to it, I think its mood-enhancing properties double. To paraphrase Madonna, “dancing makes you feel beautiful.”

It’s a pure expression of joyful aliveness. Kids already know this, as they tend to be naturally drawn to rhythms and drumming and singing. Maybe it’s just being part of the vast, complex fabric of human culture, music having been a part of civilization since the beginning. Music has been used to celebrate, soothe, court, worship, rebel, transcend, entertain, communicate and mourn.

Or maybe it’s about being part of nature and all its hummings and ceaseless movement. Apparently, scientists have discovered that the earth itself emits its own music—check out Mark Morford’s article here, where he gets into the mystical possibilities of such a wondrous phenomenon.

Supposedly scent triggers memories like nothing else, but for me it’s music. I hear David Bowie’s “Heroes” and I’m literally seventeen again, transported back in time. Or I hear Elvis’s “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and I’m back in Tokyo, 1987, singing karaoke with bad hair. The soundtrack to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly makes me happy: this brings back childhood memories of watching TV with snacks at home with the family. And anything by Hapa takes me back to our dreamy Kauai honeymoon, the ocean outside our window and plumeria perfuming the warm breeze. I’d like to hear about your music memories—please send me a comment.

The other day I contemplated which life-enhancer I couldn’t live without if I had to choose. For example, let's say I’m being forced to make a life-and-death decision between movies, music, or wine. Could I really sacrifice all other pleasures for music? Well…the answer is yes, if I had to. Music accompanies me all day long as I write—it helps inspire creativity, keeps me connected to the greater outside world even when I spend days alone at my desk. On my iTunes you’ll find everything from Beethoven to Tom Waits, Miles Davis to Dead Kennedys, Celso Fonseca to Ryukyu Underground.

Music and imagery also share a close relationship, the two being inseparable when it comes to the movies. Some of the best movies are about music, such as the classic Amadeus, featuring the unforgettable brilliance and bitterness of F. Murray Abraham’s Salieri. Or The Legend of 1900, which has one of my all-time favorite movie scenes, when the Tim Roth character plays a rolling piano on a cruise ship during a rollicking storm. I’ve seen De-Lovely three times because the songs are just plain fabulous, and that also goes for Walk The Line.

The music movie that tops my list right now is Guy Maddin’s The Saddest Music in the World, with screenplay by Kazuo Ishiguro (who himself seems to have strong ties to music, judging from his mystifying novel “The Unconsoled.”) I just saw this movie for the first time and it blew me away. I don’t know how a movie can manage to be so absurd, beautiful, grotesque, surreal, comic, sentimental, haunting and sad all at the same time. The characters seem trapped in a netherworld of memories, all except for a woman who has amnesia, and a ruthless man who feels no sadness. The ludicrous battle between the bands is a stroke of mad genius, as is the scene where (spoiler alert) Isabella Rossellini’s beer-filled glass prosthetic legs are shattered by the jarring tones of a melancholy cello. This kind of movie is like something pulled straight from my dreams.

I came across a site recently that is based on a project using music and imagery. It’s something called “Islands of Consciousness.” Two creative masterminds came together and merged an infinite experimental soundtrack with a stream of photos from Flickr being downloaded in real time. The effect is indescribable and mesmerizing. The music makes me feel like I'm starring in my own avante-garde film, where a simple act such as watching a spider in my window becomes loaded with ominous meaning.

I must end my ramblings with two more things that relate to music, motion and imagery: first, last night’s opening ceremony at the Beijing Olympics. Spectacular! I was open-mouthed with astonishment. All politics aside, it reminds us of how ancient, sophisticated and far-reaching China’s culture is. Second: I’ve been getting into JRock, and recently discovered Miyavi. Pure charisma and awesome talent. Check out this video that highlights his crazy guitar skills.

Sea of Senses

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 22:53:00 +0000

Spending a day at the beach brings us back to our natural selves. In the words of e. e. cummings, “for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)/it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.”

You shed layers of clothing and resistance, sleep in the sand, poke seaweed and rocks and jellyfish with sticks, eat gritty sandwiches, and finally succumb to the ocean’s lure, letting yourself become briny and damp and a bit more carefree. The surf drowns out nagging thoughts, and your computer-strained eyes are soothed by endless blue water. Sudden ease or spontaneous joy seems to come over everyone: adults, children, dogs.

I’m convinced that the key to being fully in the moment is in doing things that engage as many of our senses as possible, while being emotionally involved at the same time. For instance, let’s take a day at the beach: seeing ocean and sky and birds; smelling briny water and kelp; hearing ocean roar and children’s laughter; tasting salt air and sandy picnic food; touching coarse pebbles, slimy kelp, cold water. Add to this the company of a friend or two, with whom you share some thoughts and laughs. Chances are these are the kind of moments you’ll remember for a long time.

I think this is why sharing good food with people you connect with is such a powerful experience. The most valuable food experiences don’t just feed our stomachs, but engage all of our senses, suffuse us with well-being and gratitude, and create a bond between involved—the food itself, its preparer, and the consumer. This elevates the primal act of eating to an experience that brings our whole being into the here and now.

To end on a loosely related note, I found this promising article about ocean water and food, “The Old Man Who Farms with the Sea.” An atmospheric physicist named Carl Hodges claims to have found a means to providing food and fuel for the world, by cultivating a salt-loving plant called salicornia, also known as sea asparagus. I think I had this plant once at Medicine in San Francisco, back when they still served adventurous multi-coursed shojin ryoori style dinners (to my extreme disappointment, they have reduced their menu to a more limited lunch selection). I was tasting a strange vegetable I couldn’t identify, and I assumed it was a type of seaweed, but it was also somewhat cactus-like. I found a photo and more culinary info about salicornia on this blog.

Photo: Nathan, Eric and Thomas at North Beach and Drake's Beach, Point Reyes

Edible Gardens

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 19:48:00 +0000

We’ve been giving some thought to reconfiguring our garden so more edible plants are incorporated. Going on four years, this still feels new and exciting to us, not just home ownership, but the idea of owning a 7000 square foot plot of earth to deal with every day, through all the seasons. Having been city dwellers for so long (we shared a 600 sq. foot Edwardian apartment in the Castro with two cats, and a mini-garden on the fire escape balcony), it’s an adventure discovering all the things we can do with our property, and learning how to cultivate our latent green thumbs.

The object now is to rethink our water-guzzling lawns. Not only are we in the midst of a drought, but every day we hear more about producing food in a more socially/environmentally responsible fashion. Slow Food Nation, an upcoming event happening during Labor Day weekend in San Francisco, is based on the Slow Food philosophy that originated in Europe. It challenges us to rethink how we eat, to not only slow down and savor our food, but also strive to produce it with a conscience. One of the events being organized by Slow Food in SF is the creation of an edible “Victory Garden” at Civic Center Plaza—it seems ground has already been broken for this project.

I came across this other article in Time about creating an edible garden, and it inspired me to make more efforts towards replacing our own lawn. The article points out that the ornamental, “hyper-manicured lawn” is a thing of the past, a symbol of 1950’s prosperity. It makes sense, in these times, to put that space and water to better use. Another question for us, is how much time and effort we are willing to commit to gardening. We can barely keep on top of our existing vegetable beds, and it’s not as if we have a bevy of kids to help work the land. It’s just the two of us, since the cats have shown no interest in lifting a paw to earn their keep.

We may be too busy with summertime house guests to start our garden renovation right away, so we’ll probably have to put in winter veggies. I can envision beautiful rows of lettuce, kale, mustard greens, maybe even Brussels sprouts, enough to share with neighbors. Our lawn chairs will simply have to be parked elsewhere.

Mindful Enjoyment

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 20:51:00 +0000

Such different weather compared to the day of my last entry on summer solstice. It feels as though the entire world is burning up, due to drought and the 800 or so wildfires happening across California. There has been a constant light smoky haze in the air for days, irritating eyes and throats, setting sunsets ablaze, and creating an eerie sense of the apocalypse about to happen.

The thought of fires raging and seeing gardens drying up with drought brings to mind the impermanence of everything. Nothing in this physical realm is forever, anything can be taken away at the blink of an eye. It reminds us to fully appreciate what we have, and to try and make the good and necessary things last longer, even with small efforts each day.

It’s all about trying to be green these days, and we’re fools to not try and incorporate steps in our daily routine to try and lessen the earth’s burden. It can be overwhelming trying to figure out how to make these changes in a way that makes any difference, and it’s easy to let a sense of hopelessness take over. Since I can’t afford to install solar panels or green-retrofit my kitchen at the moment, do basic acts such as separating recycling from trash really make a difference?
The answer is: yes, they do. It's no longer a question of if we should try and make a difference, but how.

I’m glad to discover sites such as Carbonrally, which helps you figure out how to make a positive environmental impact with small, doable actions, by providing statistic-backed challenges to its online community. You can learn how you make an impact as an individual, or cumulatively, as a society. I’m about to attempt their “beverage independence” challenge, which is to avoid bottled drinks for a month. (As long as that doesn’t include wine, I’m good.) Supposedly, by doing this, I can reduce CO2 emissions by 25.7 lbs for the month. I’m a tea fanatic, so I’ve already started my challenge by making a pitcher of iced tea for the fridge to drink instead of the bottled Harney’s that I’ve developed a fondness for.

Going back to that ominous haze that hovers in the atmosphere, I think it reflects the psychological pall that seems to have settled over everyone these days. Things are bad: the environment, the economy, the war, politics, crime, the energy crisis, the food crisis. There is a lot to bring us down, but I’m leaving most of these sobering topics to others—not because I don’t care, but because there are enough sites dealing with issues reminding us how we’re on the verge of doom unless we change. That’s not the purpose of my blogs. I wanted to create these blogs as an antidote to all the craziness. I’m here to help remind us all that there are still a lot of wonderful things to enjoy, not just extravagances, but ordinary things within our reach at this moment, which can be shared without being a blight on this earth. And these things need to be appreciated every day, not just on weekends, or once we’ve retired.

Recently I’ve had the good fortune to exchange some thought-provoking emails with a particular author, who I referenced in an earlier post. He asked me via email if I’ve ever blogged about Purpose. Strange coincidence, that’s something I think about a lot, especially since quitting my office job of eight years and finding myself somewhat afloat for the past nine months. What is my purpose? For now, I’ll take my purpose as helping illuminate ways towards mindful enjoyment of life via our five senses, in the hope that these moments provide a means to feeling connected to each other and the world.

Summer Solstice in Oakland

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 17:28:00 +0000

Happy Summer! My favorite of all seasons. My happiest childhood memories revolve around summer and warm weather, some going all the way back to Okinawa…fireworks, shave ice, cold soba noodles, the comforting whir of the rotary fan, playing outside way into the long balmy twilight.

I spent yesterday’s happy hour with friends in Old Oakland, and before meeting up with them at a pub called The Trappist, I stumbled upon a lively little outdoor event going on a blocked-off section of 9th Street. (I seem to often stumble upon celebratory happenings like these, I must have some kind of party radar in action.) Apparently this is part of an ongoing Thursday Night Live series that will be held on the first and third Thursdays from June through October. There were various vendors, a drink booth, and a live jazz band performing to a relaxed audience planted between Levende East and B restaurants. The evening was warm, the music was good, and people looked like they were enjoying life.

We’ve had quite a few hot days here in Oakland, and as a result, our cucumbers have undergone a freakish growth spurt. This brings joyous visions of cold cucumbers with ponzu sauce, cucumber kimchi, cucumber and tomato sandwiches, tsatsiki, cucumber infused vodka, cucumbers with ikura, tuna poke with fresh cucumber chunks…

Although we’re being spare with watering, everything seems to be growing at a scary rate. The tree ferns are starting to make their way into my studio windows. Nearly all of the hibiscus are in bloom now, and the jasmine seems to be climbing our fence a few inches a day. Our gorgeous, lush-leafed Canna plants out front tower over me, their blossoms providing a bright pop of crimson. I’m happy to see more bees than we had during spring. The birds seem stirred by the season as well, waking us with their exuberant songs. By nine a.m. it’s already quite warm out, reminiscent of how mornings feel in Hawaii. I suppose we have global warming to thank for all this splendor. It may be a temporary paradise before everything shrivels up and goes to Hades, so we may as well savor it while we have it.

It seems our summer season will start with a bang: this weekend we host a big wine event, and there has been much buzz about this among Thomas’ wide circle of wine experts and enthusiasts. Twelve of us will gather with pre-selected wines in hand, and split into two teams, Nebbolio vs. Burgundy. A blind tasting will commence to decide which wine reigns supreme. There has been much back-and-forth email jousting about this upcoming showdown, and the excitement is mounting. Apparently this is the second battle of these particular wines—the first was held back in March while I was in Tokyo. This time, I am fortunate enough to be included, but being the only female participant, and the only non-expert, I have to step up and represent! Better go catch up on some wine reading.

Which leads to perfect summer reading to look forward to: last weekend I was at the Benicia library book sale with my dad, and came across four of Peter Mayle’s books on Provence and fine dining. A wonderful find, for a dollar each. These will be my companions in the hammock on quiet afternoons, in between preparations for our next slew of thirsty house guests.

Five Good Reasons to Throw a Party

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 02:16:00 +0000

It may help increase longevity. Social connectedness and pursuing worthwhile interests are two important ingredients for a happier and healthier old age, according to Dan Buettner, author of The Blue Zones: Lessons for Living Longer from the People Who’ve Lived the Longest. So hanging out with your favorite people is good for you, as are hobbies such as cooking and wine tasting.
Summer is around the corner—celebrate the solstice. Georgeanne Brennan offers ideas for a Provencal feast in her evocative article in the SF Chronicle. Celebrating the solstice has been done since ancient times all over the world.
Save gas—stay home and have people over more often. Road trips will be too exorbitant for most of us this summer. I think that calls for more get-togethers with a few splurges from the cellar, in lieu of a weekend away. Rotate party locations with friends.
A great excuse to clean house. “Declutter” seems to be in everybody’s vocabulary nowadays, from Oprah to the New York Times. If parting with precious (but unneeded) possessions is too painful, consider throwing a big decluttering bash: fix some drinks and nibbles and offer a pile of giveaways for guests to browse through and take home. Maybe knowing that your unused BeDazzler kit is in the hands of a friend will make it just a little easier. Just keep the cocktails flowing to numb the pain, and remember, your friends will love you for the free stuff.
Pull yourself out of a rut. Maybe you’ve been in major paralysis mode lately, or need to move past a breakup, or a lost job, or the blahs of the daily grind. There’s nothing like throwing a party for an instant pick-me-up and a way to find your joy again. It’s a chance to show off your social, culinary and home decorating skills, an excuse to buy some cute summer sandals, put together a rocking playlist, reconnect with old friends and make some new ones, and reconfirm that life can be good.

Remains of the Dishes

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:16:00 +0000

Often I find that the aftermath of a good meal or party is as visually interesting as the event itself. A post-party table laden with the remains of a feast, glasses of half-consumed wine, crumpled linens and the odd spill, perhaps with light reflecting on china, all make for the visual equivalent to a big happy sigh. I actually enjoy washing dishes and tidying up after a meal, I find these acts soothing and conducive to contemplation. Putting away leftovers, I take note of what was consumed with gusto, and put it on a mental list of party hits. Or I might notice how people eat: the enthusiastic omnivore meticulously scraping up every morsel of risotto and leaving a nearly licked-clean plate, or the more finicky eater, who picks around less favored items such as mushrooms and onions. Lately we seem to break a glass at every gathering, creating a bit more clean-up the day after. I’ll take broken dishware at a party as good luck, or at the very least, evidence of a good time.

Anticipating Summertime

akigibbons@yahoo.com (Aki) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 05:37:00 +0000

The hibiscus tree outside my window is in full bloom today, a sure sign of approaching summer. Of the seven varieties of hibiscus we've planted, the red is my favorite. When the sun is fully out, they deepen in vibrancy and open to the warmth like bright faces. More than any other beautiful everyday thing, flowers are like little portals into transcendence. Few things engage the senses in such an immediate way, making you pause and become fully aware of the moment. A laugh with a friend can also do this, or an excellent glass of ice-cold bubbly, or superb music. All things to be enjoyed year-round, not just for summer.

Speaking of music, I can't stop raving about Pandora.com, a free Oakland-based internet music site that allows you to create your own radio stations, based on something called the Music Genome Project. Truly technology at its best. I've instantly doubled my jazz hipness quotient thanks to my fresh music discoveries on Pandora. I'm listening to my own custom Cal Tjader/Latin jazz station as I write...perfect kind of rhythms for sun and sangria, out in the garden.

And lastly, speaking of sun, it seems that most of us can use a little more of it in our lives for many good reasons, according to this LA Times article on sunshine and health.