California

A Saturday In September
Driving down Ventura Boulevard in Ethan’s 1973 International Scout, I looked in the rear view mirror and smiled at Griffin sucking his thumb in the back seat. The convertible turquoise blue truck has been pressed into service since we have only one car and somehow, cruising the old Scout made me feel young. Or maybe it was my long dirty blond hair, streaked with its first few strands of grey, flying around in the wind like some 70s surfer girl. When a guy passed in a Porsche, he nodded in admiration—for the car or for me, it didn’t matter. In the brilliance of a sunny Southern California day, the realization that everything old can be new again struck with a burst of energy.Coming back in Los Angeles after nearly eighteen months of traveling at our own pace is like being caught in a really powerful vortex. Whirling around in this energy force, it is easy to lose direction,…Read more…