by Dr. David Fialkoff, Editor / Publisher

It was a strange day.

I had an appointment to meet someone at City Market at 10:30am just to pick up some money. I woke up at 9:55. (It's one thing to stay up until 2:30am and quite another to stay up until 2:30am doing detailed, exacting work as I do publishing my Friday newsletter particularly after I've been doing it all day long. Thank God for stress hormones.) I arrived at 10:35.

By 11:00 I was at Veronica's taking Canela, the dog, for a walk. At 11:30 we were at the vet's waiting to have her post-mastectomy stitches removed. She's healing very well, thanks.

On the way back up Calle Stirling Dickinson we stopped at the Tres Fuentes Hotel where the artists Andrew Osta and Efrén González have hung a show of their paintings. The show is up for three months. The art and the space are wonderful.

After dropping off Vero and Canela (in col Allende) I drove to Parque Jauréz, parked and  walked up a sun-drenched Calle Diez de Sollano (there was no shade at all at that hour). At 1:15pm I was sitting in a restaurant just off the Jardín with three principals of the Players' Workshop. Artistic director Richard Hochberg had sent me an announcement of their upcoming production, the Tony-winning play ART. I posted that and suggested, additionally, that he write an article. He suggested lunch.

By way of presenting me to board president Antonia Banewicz and secretary Christie Cooke, Richard announced that, in response to his seemingly innocuous question, "How often do you publish?", I had sent him a funny email:

There at the table, his calling my email amusing brought to mind a sentiment to which my father sometimes gave voice, "I'd laugh too, but it's mine," my life.

My lunch-mates kept me interested and amused with their shop talk, and we agreed that they'll charm you as well with a series of articles on their Players' Workshop project. But you don't have to wait for those articles, go see, and be charmed by, ART (August 6-9, Teatro Santa Ana).

After lunch, after walking back down to Parque Juarez (this time in the shade), I drove home, ate some watermelon, took a cold shower and brushed my teeth.

I'm a real homebody. I live on the very last block of the northern edge of town, on a hill, in an apartment on the second floor looking down on it all, the city spreading out before me for miles. Many days the first, and sometimes the only person I speak with is a shopkeeper in one of the stores where I stop on my late afternoon bicycle ride.

Today, when I got home from el Centro (and cooled off) I got to work publishing, making up for the time I spent galavanting around town. But the article I had been working on for publication this week just wasn't inspiring me. So, I did another strange thing, I went for a walk, out into the open space, el campo, out past the northern edge of town, practically just out my backdoor. It's not quite the forests of New England, but with all the rain the countryside is delightfully green.

It was a philosophical walk: I wondered why the path was not straight, but meandered side to side, which put me in mind of life's twists and turns. Then, the sun already low in the western sky, I mused on how I project my shadow over the landscape I was photographing, darkening the view. I also considered, there among the lush exuberance brought on by the rains, how so much potential is hiding out of sight during dry times.

But that's enough for now. It's time to make dinner.

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Dr. David Fialkoff presents Lokkal, our local social network, the community online and off, Atención robustly reborn for the digital age. If you can, please do contribute content, or your hard-earned cash, to support Lokkal, SMA's Voice. Use the orange, Paypal donate button below. Thank you.

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