Wednesday, July 16, 2014


a break.  from.  a book.  in progress. 

Monday, July 7, 2014

hot day in a cool cafe

The photos pretty much speak for how I spent my Sunday afternoon.  

I claimed a few hours to myself in this cozy place called rise n*1.  It's a souffle restaurant and this twinkling centerpiece which seems to rise high like a souffle, is my favorite fixture. 

You can choose how to spend an afternoon here; seek refuge in a corner, enjoy the sunny patio, even sit on the couch or in an easy chair.  There's a couple of bar options too; the classic which has a window open to the patio or the even smaller counter positioned in front of the ovens where you can watch the many souffles in all their stages to greatness.  

I did several of those things today.  I contemplated purchases from the sitting-shopping area, watched the ramekins in the oven, talked wine and souffles with Jennifer at the bar, enjoying a refreshing, dry rose I'm thrilled she recommended.  

Esther brought me bread while Pete and I talked about cameras.

Rob the bartender arrived and we discussed life in Dallas.  

Esther recommended the salmon souffle.  Thank you Esther!

rise n*1 was everything I wanted it to be today.  I look forward to another experience another Sunday afternoon.  Or quiet Tuesday evening.  Or bustling Saturday night. . .


rise n*1,  Lovers Lane, Dallas 

Monday, June 23, 2014


The summer sun was not meant for boys like me.  

Boys like me belonged to the rain.


Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe 
Benjamin Alire Saenz

Monday, June 2, 2014

Tuesday, May 27, 2014


Photographs by George Boyd, Dallas

Monday, May 26, 2014

Friday, May 23, 2014


Comparison is the thief of joy.

I've been thinking about this.  Is it not true!

We compare appearances.  We compare talents.  We compare tastes.

We express love by comparison.

     "I love you more than infinity."  
        "Well, I love you more than that."
     "But you cant, infinity is never ending."
        "Well I do. I love you beyond infinity."  

It's a debate worth having as Spoke and I celebrate twenty-five years married, this month.

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"Do you fight much?" a girl, newly wedded, asked me.  We were sipping wine at an open-air bar, Dallas new to her, both of us new to each other.

We had just one big one I told her.

(There was another, small in comparison, in Pisa, Italy.  Tempers teetered like the tower.  We'd lost our way, the sun was setting and we were close to missing the ride back to Florence.  Mad at our circumstances, we took it out on each other and rode back to the city in complete silence.)

I wish I could have shared words of wisdom with my young friend but when marriage is blithe and effortless, as ours is, you don't understand it yourself.  You simply feel blessed.  

We're lovers, I could have said, soulmates too.  Spoke would tell her it's magic.

Comparisons with my new, young friend stare me down at times.  She has her youth and I'm envious.  I've perspective that has come with age and which she's beginning to recognize and appreciate, as she embraces life's experiences.  

<> <> <>

We compare choices.  We compare wealth.  We compare desires.  

At what will be a casual, French cafe dinner to celebrate, Spoke and I will likely reminisce about memorable meals spanning our quarter-century together; full baguettes with orange marmalade and strong coffee, four courses at the swanky restaurant in a Bahama hotel, cappuccino in Rome, Sam's pizza on Greenville Avenue, fried scallops in Cape Cod, shaved truffles on a plate-sized ravioli in Firenze, the numerous bowls of Conchiglie ai Quattro Formaggi at MoMo . . .  

What joy they each brought!  We wouldn't wish to compare them.  

A classic bistro dinner, enjoyed slowly over a few hours, is so classically us, it too will likely be memorable for years to come.  Comparison may join us, briefly but rightly so, for it would come as no surprise to either of us, if at some point in the meal, the other leans in and from across the small cafe table, says, 

     "I love you more than infinity."

Quote by Theodore Roosevelt