still-sound 133. Resins

James came by the other night, like a wise man from the East, bearing aromatic resins.  I lit a charcoal and we burnt each incense separately.  The baltic amber came from Denmark.  It's tens of millions of years old.  It doesn't smell like amber in a perfume sense.  I think what we know as the amber smell is usually cistus labdanum or benzoin.  Smoldering baltic amber smells like locomotive fuel.  It reminded me of the Reading Terminal station in Philadelphia in the early 1980s. 

I chewed a drop of mastic gum and it tasted like pine.  Its lit smell reminded me of frankincense.  Piney and lemony.

This is a proper boswellia tear from Yemen.  I shaved off a slice and placed it on the charcoal.  Smoking frankincense is one of my favorite smells.

The most unexpected scent of the night came from the Indian guggulu resin.  It smells like burning leaves coated in caramel.  The gum itself was slightly sticky when I cut off a sliver with my pocket knife, like a dessert from a sweets shop on Brick Lane.

After a touch of sal tree resin and myrrh we ended the smoky progression with the glorious smell of Los Tres Reyes, a cathedral incense blend James had picked up in Spain.  Its smoke was symphonic.

still-sound 132. Bay

I found a small bay tree at Hashimoto Nursery in Sawtelle last week.  I brought it home and planted it in a big terra cotta pot on the balcony.  I snipped off a branch near the bottom to allow the tree to direct its energy on vertical growth.  I strung the laurel in the kitchen.  I plan to use the leaves when cooking.

That night I watched an old episode of At Home With Venetia in Kyoto in which (coincidentally) Venetia dedicates her herb essay to bay.  She calls it the "herb of strength" and sips a mug of warm milk flavored with a bay leaf and honey before going to bed.

I asked my friend Ryota to watch Venetia's show with me several nights later.  I wanted to know if he thought her Japanese sounded native.  He thought she sounded fluent but not entirely flawless.  He found her minor mistakes charming.  Ryota also explained to me that the title of the show in Japanese is Cat Tail and Frog Hand.  I was shocked by this information. 

still-sound 131. Berries & lights

I decorated the perfume store where I work with berried branches in a black vase.  I decorated my home by stringing lights next to the big window.  One red and one white.

still-sound 130. Coffee

How do you like my coffee set-up?  I was inspired by the cafes in Silverlake and Echo Park that charge $6 for a cup.  I watched mesmerized as a barista clad in an apron performed an intricate ritual no less mannered than a Japanese tea ceremony.  Hot water poured from a kettle with a long thin spout, resembling a watering can, moistening the paper filter, allowing it to submit to the porcelain cone.  The barista scooped a precisely measured dose of freshly ground beans to the filter and proceeded to water the grinds with the watering can.  A glass jug collected the drips of steaming, black liquid. 

The barista filled the jug to a quarter inch, let it settle motionless then poured the offensive starter coffee out.  The newly emptied jug received the optimal brew which I enjoyed moments later after its transference to a mug.

I have professed my love for ritual in this blog.  I crave and invent new ones all the time.  As such I have been wanting to make a porcelain coffee cone to replicate this ceremony at home.  My first attempt bore an overly small vessel that did not properly hold the paper filter.  I often forget the extent to which porcelain shrinks during its two firings. 

Yesterday I took home my second ceramic coffee strainer and its matching cup.  I used them this morning to brew organic, fairtrade coffee from Trader Joe's.  The cookie is also from Trader Joe's.  It's only sold around Christmastime and is called peppermint joe joe. 

still-sound 129. Leaves

still-sound 128. Franky's barber shop

Look at the picture that appears at the top of Franky's barber shop blog.*  Is it any wonder why I decided to get my hair trimmed there?  Although my loyalty to Ian, Burbank's best barber, is ordinarily unshakable, I found myself wandering into Franky's the day before Thanksgiving.  My appearance was borderline straggly and Ian was taking a few days off for the holidays.  I simply could not wait.

It's an unusal set-up.  The shop is a record and used clothing store with a barber's chair in the corner.  The speakers reverberated with New Order's album Technique as the record spun next to the cash register.  I commented that the New Order concert for the the Technique tour with Public Image Limited and Echo and the Bunnymen sharing the billing was one of my favorite performances ever.  Franky saw the same show in Los Angeles.  It eventually became clear that Franky had seen every show that I had ever seen (in California, rather than Pennsylvania) plus, approximately 8,000 more.  He saw Christian Death play when Rozz Williams was still alive.  Something I had only ever dreamed about in my gothic-tinged adolescence. 

Franky admitted that the show "wasn't so great".  I did not expect this at all.  I was equally scared and excited by Christian Death as a teenager.  I was almost too frightened to flip through their albums in the record store because of what I might see.  I always did though.  I figured that to see them live would be the closest thing to entering Hell and watching Satan's own private minstrels.  Judging from Franky's reaction, this would not have been the case though.

I was pleased with my haircut.  Short back and sides with a side part.  I felt civilized again.

*Frankysvintage.blogspot.com

still-sound 127. Mansard stone



I painted the back wall of my living room on Thanksgiving.  The name of the color is Mansard Stone.*  It took most of the day to complete the project.  The only pause occured when I drove to the supermarket to buy mascarpone cheese, a key ingredient in tiramisu, the dessert I had planned to make.  I forgot about the plan the previous day when I did the main shop for the meal - in fact I even bought a pumpkin pie because that's what I thought one served after Thanksgiving dinner.  But when I took a break from painting and spotted the box of lady finger biscuits above the refrigerator, I remembered my original tiramisu plan and decided to follow through.

When the first layer of paint had dried I panicked that it was too dark.  I added an extra light to the room as the sun set and I began cooking.  I eventually decided that Mansard Stone was not too dark.  It established the moody yet cozy atmosphere I had intended all along.  Rob and Ryota, my Thanksgiving guests, liked the color.  The meal turned out well.  Especially the tiramisu.

Do you want to see one of the pictures hanging against a backdrop of Mansard Stone?

A very talented artist named Sheila Pepe made this drawing with pen and white-out.  She graciously gave it to me in 1995 to thank me for my efforts in helping to organize an exhibition that included her.  The show was called Way Cool.  The gallery was Exit Art.  I worked there for a couple of years after college.  I like the visual rhymes in this drawing.  It's funny.

*I also considered Squirrel Gray and Tweed Gray.