Home Sweet Homes

Son of Senator John Percival Jones, the founder of Santa Monica, once lived in this 19th century heritage house turned museum. It was moved a short distance from its original location decades later to make way for a development project. The tour within was less about the possessions of one family than a multicultural gathering of art and history representing the people who made this community their home.

I also ran into a house of worship (below) but, in this case, the doors were locked. Luckily, one doesn't need the confines of religious walls to feel a sense of serenity.

I found another door (below) I couldn't enter. It was gorgeous but ...

sometimes the door to "home" is simply within ourselves. My dad passed away years prior to my mom's unexpected death in my twenties. Not only was she a literal home where my life began, she was my psychological home so it was a long inner journey back from the shock.

Thankfully, I never lacked a physical home but the Poets and Storytellers United prompt "what feels like home" had me reflecting that it is great to sleep under the stars unless you truly need a roof over your head ... and many do. Affordability and disasters of all kinds leave millions homeless throughout the globe while others live comfortably. In Santa Monica, I saw many lovely homes and apartment buildings.

The Georgian (above) is a historic building styled in Art Deco. After opening as a hotel in 1933, it transitioned to apartments at various stages, coming full-circle by reopening as a hotel in 2020. It was, maybe still is, a retreat for Hollywood stars and executives. During prohibition it was a speakeasy and gangsters occasionally entered its doors. From selling alcohol illegally to later housing servicemen and aircraft designers throughout WWII, these walls have many tales to tell, if they could talk.

The historic sun-washed Charmont Santa Monica (above and below) in Mediterranean and Art Deco styles was a 1920's luxury hotel. A short distance from the beach, it was later converted to apartments. It suffered significant damage in the 1994 earthquake but was restored. Some homes do endure and stay true to their original appeal.

There is also the "house of mouse". In Burbank, The Walt Disney Studio headquarters (below) signifies a happy place to work which it may or may not be. Wherever you feel at home is home ... a place free to create, mess up and relax with no need for masks or mouse ears (unless that's your thing) or to pretend to be who you are not.

Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United and SKYWATCH. 

Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.

Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the  Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report.

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Inside The Hourglass

A street singer in Santa Monica serenaded folks enjoying their meal at outdoor cafes just steps away from the sea. His relaxed tunes wrapped us, and the child, in a blanket of serenity. The Poets and Storytellers United prompt, "losing track of time" is exactly what transpired in those moments when it seemed all clocks had stalled. Time, however, did not lose track of us, as I lament in the verse below.

I felt as tiny as the seahorse printed on my t-shirt, by the sea, yet also part of some large majestic scheme. The waves cast a cheerful spell in the sparkling sunlight and I took many pictures. But now these same watery images evoke agitation, too, when my thoughts turn to the colossal incompetence of leaders that resulted in thousands of unnecessary drownings in Libya of people who might have escaped if warned or if dams had been properly maintained. Complacency is the evil that corrupts common sense and humans settle in vulnerable places. Personal immediate needs prevail over the long haul yet we must also consider the greater good and the future. The proactive know time is a gift and opportunity that expires too soon to whatever waits outside the hourglass of our existence. Bliss balances the me and "we", the now with what will be.

   

Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters. 

Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.

Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the  Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report.

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Spiraling Situations In Happy Places

Santa Monica is not unusual in that the homeless linger there, similarly to world-over. When something nefarious hooks us, be-it mental illness, addiction or unlucky breaks, we can get lost with nowhere to go except a "cozier" climate. On my brief visit, I saw different people seemingly asleep on the mattress below, oblivious to passersby who pretended not to see them. The distressed rest out in the open and in shadows. They, and the Poets and Storytellers United prompts: "storm, ink, love" inspired my verse.

The Elephant Parade was also in town. They, too, needed our help. Their artistic rederings were stunning. But just twenty percent of sales go to elephant conservation.

Despite worldly problems, most people were out and about enjoying their day.

I saw walkers, joggers, cyclists, swimmers and surfers in and around Palisades Park.

I saw many shade trees such as the symmetrical ficus microcarpa with its smooth pale bark. Known as the Indian laurel fig, it bears fruit edible to birds but not humans.

Of course, the beautifully swaying palm trees were around every corner.

Less typical was the tree sculpture of artful chains called Chain Reaction (below) near the local courthouse. The peace monument in Santa Monica is a cautionary tale depicting the mushroom cloud of a nuclear explosion.

It's not easy to tell where sky ends and sea begins or where pitiless fate will take us.

Hundreds of thousands of homeless never expected to be in such a predicament.

A ride viewed from the Santa Monica pier reminded me that life is a bit like the spin of a gambler's wheel. Earthquakes, fires, floods and war can instantly turn the tide from stable to chaotic. I would also note good fortune, too, can strike at any time.

Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters. 

Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.

Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the  Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report.

HOLD ONTO THE LIGHT

Scents At Santa Monica's Beach

The sea is a heady brew with all manner of life and decomposition. Unpredictable as the wind blows, its "scents" (the Poets and Storytellers United prompt this week) can shift in a whiff from pungent and fishy to tangy and fresh as rain-drenched leaves at the coastal waters of B.C. where I live, as well as at the Santa Monica shores in California where I recently visited. Beneath the sun-kissed mist hovering in a mostly cloudless sky, the Pacific Ocean breezes cooled the days just a bit while some inland areas endured unbearable three-digit heat. The best place to be was at the beach with the seagulls, luxuriating in the splashes, my toes sinking into the wave-washed sand. 

Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters. 

Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.

Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the  Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report.

HOLD ONTO THE LIGHT

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