We wanted to go back to Vancouver, to visit our family, but then we heard that they were gone to the island, and so instead we stayed here and it was lovely. I watched la Dolce Vita over the course of 3 days (it is a loooong movie), and we picnicked in the park and the movie influenced my words and breathing and so it seems as if the entire weekend was in black and white, with beautiful people, with every line being said significant, with every action meaningful and bizarre.
I invited le Terrible to spend Sunday with us, and he did, and we were all charming and loud and full of laughter and light. The entire house and all our guests were under our influence, and everything was good: good food, good wine, good conversation. I revel in days like yesterday; to glow and to spin webs of crystallized threads of thought, to make people laugh and to die of laughter myself, to drink in the sun and warmth and that unspeakable, intangible quality... is it love? Love for fellow humans, for le Terrible on my right and A on my left, for Henry and Donna across the table... sometimes, humanity itself is good. Love for salmon en croute (with leeks and a dill Hollandaise), love for an Okanogan Chardonnay, love for sun-drenched parks with dusty brown grass... I think it's love for la Dolce Vita.
Sylvia in her evening gown, twirling in the Trevi Fountain.
Nico with the helmet of a soldier, and ghost-hunts.
The girl in the cafe with the profile of a Rubini angel.
Marcello, twisted, tortured Marcello who seems to have no control over the Fates.
Lying underneath the streams of wind, trying to pretend it's summer.
Walking for hours in the dark at 1 a.m. and not shivering, eating pizza.
When you reach that point where a flick of your wrist says a whole essay to your friends.
"What's better, gin or J I N?" she said to me.
"I think the two are non interchangeable" I replied, and they understood.
"We are NOT standing in line for 45 minutes to get into the Strat," K said firmly, "Even if they do have $1 beer."
"I'm sorry," I apologized to le Terrible, "I don't even notice it even more, because I grew up with it. But today, watching through your eyes, I can see how awkward and cliche it all is."
"Hahaha," laughed J, "what did you say?"
"You just made a funny mouth noise!" I sputtered out.
The sweetness is intoxicating, addictive, a drug that doesn't quietly seep into your system but overwhelms and sweeps in with grandeur and grace. There is no use resisting, and once you've tasted it, had it forced upon you, you will forever be searching for its equivalent. La Dolce Vita, those perfect days, they run my life. You can't make them happen, they just occur sometimes. And when they do they shine like stars in the darkness of your memory, and guide your way at night. Haha, that's kind of cheesy. But I'm leaving it there anyways.