The Sake Ritual

In short-it was a long day. Pouring cold rain and ice, I was sick, went to school when I should have stayed home. I have a whiskey tenor voice; I am sure some have found it interesting. One of my students told me not to talk because it was making her feel pain.

I had to break my rendevous with Rob, so that I could come home and take care of myself. I really wanted to go and do museum and coffee, but I knew it was not wise.

The quiet and centering part of the evening after all the craziness---was dinner. Larry got take-out from Kyoto. I took the time to light scented candles, put out the simple black plates, and the sake bottle and glasses that my brother gave me 20+ years ago. It had been a long time since I have used them, and Jude had given us a bottle of Sake for Christmas.

As I sat in quiet and ate my dinner, I thought about the times my brother and I had gotten together for long conversations and a bottle of sake, tipping the delicate cups many times to our lips, nodding.

It has been years since those poingant memories...and with a bittersweet tender ritual I heated the sake and shared it with Larry. We say campai, which in Japanese, means "empty cup". We say it many times tonight; the sake bottle is deceptive in the amount it holds and it seems to be bottomless.

I end the evening with a hot toddy which even for me seems terribly strong. I fear Larry is trying to knock me out. He is right, it is probably the only thing that will slow me down. Even when sick I cannot stop. I am so driven....

I ran around the house tonight taking photos for tonight's blog. I have come to the realization that I need a monopod for some of the photos I want to take with long exposures. I am posting a somewhat blurry photo of a painting I did looking out onto Julie's yard. It was the second time that I went to live with her.....and I remember with fondness the day that I painted it, and the energy of love that it moves with....

patti