(Note: if you missed the first post about spinning the year 2025 in yarns, here it is. I’ve given up, however, on the illusion of writing these post in anything like real time.)
February was filled with the arts, and special moments of friendship. I read only a few books, since my calendar was chock full after having spent most of January home sick.
February’s books
Predictably, I settled back into my usual preference for fiction in February. I generally read non-fiction when I am given a hearty recommendation for it by someone whose tastes I know well, whereas I’ll pick up just about any piece of fiction and often make decisions about what novels to read on little more than the cover.
As it happened, while I was reading Carmelo, I learned that Sandra Cisneros was going to be speaking at the annual Writer’s Symposium by the Sea at the University of San Diego, so I got myself a ticket. I enjoy reading novels set in places I am planning to visit, and had picked it up in preparation for our trip to Mexico City in March. Cisneros is an absolute marvel of energy and wit, and it was great fun to hear her speaking about the writing of Carmelo, which took her many years and is her personal favorite of her novels. And it was a fantastic read, with many laugh out loud moments for me as about the quirks of family that transcend time, place, and culture.
February’s highlights
On the topic of family quirks: in February we saw The Old Globe’s “Appropriate,” one of the most enjoyable comedy-dramas I’ve seen in a long time. I also took a trip up to Sacramento to see my old high school friend Melinda Parrett performing in a production of Annie. She’s an incredible talent and it was a fun night out with two of my best friends (Julie and Krista) and two of our moms. Early this year, the City of San Diego selected its new Poet Laureate, Paola Capó-Garcia, who I went to see at the Central Library with my friends Joan and Vanessa in February. Poetry has long felt like none of my business: I enjoy reading it, but usually assume it’s so heady and complex that I’m actually missing most of its meaning. But my mind was changed listening to Capó-Garcia, and being surrounded by the local poetry community. Since then I’ve been reading poetry more regularly, and am realizing that it’s a lot more accessible than I believed.
It was also a month of celebrating and mourning friendships. We attended a ball of a going-away fete our friend Jesse who was moving to the east coast. He’s a musical improv teacher and performer, and just a kind, fun, and hilarious person, and his people turned out in spades for a night of Jesse-themed comedy and music at a local wine bar. This month we also ate and drank with our friend Kevin as he turned 40, and celebrated the inspiring life of my dear friend Karen who had died a few months prior. She fought hard against injustice and unkindness, and losing her as we were preparing for a second Trump presidency felt like an especially hard punch in the gut. But she’s always in my heart and my head, pushing me forward and refusing to listen to my internal whining when I feel like there’s nothing I can do.
Rest in peace, Karen Van Dyke (second from the right)
brain dump 