If we had previously looked like Dali’s melted clocks, it now felt like we’d been dropped into one of his surreal paintings.
I watched cats dressed as Dorothy Parker and Harpo Marx, parade by me in the arms of their owners, with people jostling to get photos of them. Try to picture how thrilled the cats were to be dressed up and paraded around.
Riding a motorcycle in my bikini on switchback cliffs in Greece, riding a wild horse that tried to buck me off in Mexico in my bikini… how in the world did I survive?
I bought this skirt for $5 in Venice Beach in 1990, and wore it backpacking all over the world for years. Together we drank cappuccinos in Hemingways cafe in Paris, and espressos on the cliffs of Greece with the cafe owner who didn’t speak English. It was always my skirt, my journal, and me, sitting on the train station steps somewhere.
Packing tip: if you are traveling with large hats, don’t pack them, wear them.
Wouldn’t it be dreamy if people started wearing large hats while traveling? Out with sweatpants and messy buns… in with large hats and beautiful travel attire!
Whenever I enter a hat shop while traveling, my fantasy world kicks into overdrive, and with each one I try on, I become different characters dropped into fantastic worlds.
I inevitably fall in love with the biggest, most ornate ones, and I’m overcome with that feeling of “My life will not be complete without you, oh darling hat!”
My bus arrived, and I loaded my bags and sat down. When I looked back out my window, the butcher was standing outside, looking at me, his moustache curled up as he pointed his finger. I looked where he was pointing, and saw the butterfly fluttering right by my window, the sun shining through its wings like they were delicate stained glass windows in an ancient cathedral, and I had to glance down to make sure I was actually on a bus and not a magic tapestry.
I never thought I’d find myself backpacking to Prague in 1990, walking the cobblestone streets with lanterns creating dancing shadows on the walls, surrounded by centuries of history, shrouded in myths and a whispering river, sounds that conjured up tall ancient churches with stained glass windows and flickering candles, sounds that invited us to explore this magnificent city that seemed so strange and exotic.
Who needs Tiffany’s when we’ve got sunlight sparkling on the sea? I do! I love Tiffany’s! The first monologue I ever performed in high school drama class was Holly Golightly getting ready to go see Sally Tomato in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I studied the scene
I saw many incredible things in Cairo, like the glittering gold and jewels from King Tut’s tomb, 3,000 year old mummies staring out at me from their bandages, peacocks swishing their tails through lush gardens, and curling glass perfume bottles that resembled a genie’s lamp.
Walking around Cairo was like walking through a Cave of Wonders–around every bend was another treasure.
His touch was like a Crème Brulee torch, and I was the sugar on top…
I just want to be next to her, to read to her, put my arms around her, to feel my heart near hers, and pretend that her brain will come back and she will remember who I am, even for one bittersweet moment.
