Author Archives: drice
She moved with her own kind of logic
He aspired to architecture Because he loved the structure of things But instead became a butcher Carving life down to gristle and bone. She had no choice but to pursue Interior design For every room she entered Was transformed.
69
Like Dylan Thomas, I rose on my birthday morning, walked a trail along the hills above Ojai, and sat looking over this valley full of memories. 69 is a momentous birthday, along with 19, 29, 39, etc. At 19, it dawns on us that we are at the end of our teenage years. At 29, … Continue reading
The Night of the Cioppino
The onion was yellow and firm, but it sliced cleanly under the sharp knife. The garlic too diced easily and together they filled the house with a familiar aroma as they sizzled in the olive oil. (It was labeled “Extra Virgin”, but he wondered.) Having harvested oregano, thyme, and basil from his own garden and … Continue reading
Dances With Coyotes
For nearly 15 years, I lived in the Upper Ojai Valley, our house perched at the edge of a vast field, offering our family a daily panorama of the changing weather, the changing seasons, and a constant diorama of wildlife doing what wildlife does. Besides the regular stream of birds, the fields were the daily … Continue reading
Papa Bach
Back in the day on Santa Monica Blvd, out near Sawtelle, as I recall, was a small storefront bookstore named Papa Bach’s. I associate the place with my literary first kiss, or at least with my awakening of desire. I had always been a reader, mostly comics when I was quite young, then the … Continue reading
Release
“One day standing on a river with my fly rod I’ll have the courage to admit my life to myself” Jim Harrison A long last swig of thermos coffee, some extra tippet Just in case. We step away from gravel roads And all the grating calls of civilization Into the waiting stream. Still and clear … Continue reading
Paradise
“He found something that he wanted, had always wanted and always would want — not to be admired, as he had feared; not to be loved, as he had made himself believe; but to be necessary to people, to be indispensable…” F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise In 1967 the Vietnam War was … Continue reading
Books
My friends are moving from a large house to a smaller condo. They have recently made the difficult decision to dump the walls of books that they have accumulated over the years. I encouraged them to do so, despite any attachment they might feel. I have weaned myself from books several times in my life. … Continue reading
Dylan
I had been teaching about 18 months in Queensland, Australia, when Dylan was born. After waiting two weeks from the due date, the doctors at Queen’s Hospital, Brisbane, decided to induce the birth. As we were inside and distracted for the prior 36 hours, we paid no attention to the storm warnings. As a father, … Continue reading
The Blessing of Shopkeepers
I have reflected in other musings on the power and freedom of being a ten year old on a bike in the WLA of the ‘50s. Especially riding with a pack of friends, it seemed there was adventure to be had at every turn. A simple excursion from point A to B might include any … Continue reading