Top O' the Mornin'

And here we are, at our second St. Paddy's Day. Once again, I am sharing a view, actually, two views, of the majestic great Dane statue on Garden Street.

Last year, he wore a larger bow and spats. This year, he has balloons! I don't know his name, but I always think of him as Duke. It's because when I was five-years-old, our neighbor had a great Dane named Duke: a big gentle guy who wandered loose through the neighborhood.

Right now, we Santa Barbarians are hunkering down, as word has it that a storm is on its way. It's been a while since I've posted, and I look forward to posting again on the 20th, in just a few days. Until then, sending you my warm wishes. I hope you all have a fun-filled 17th. ~ Aneet

On Valentine's Day

I love it when synchronicity arrives. When it delivers gifts and I can say to myself, "Look, look at this beautiful coincidence." That's exactly what happened last year before making my Valentine's Day post. A heart-shaped mussel shell greeted me on the seashore, glowing in the late day sun. It was the perfect image for my Valentine's post. But this year, even though I took myself to the beach twice for long walks at low tide, in the glorious, unseasonably warm weather (which is the ideal environment for inviting synchronicity), I didn't find the image I was looking for.

I saw a snowy egret posing in a tide pool; a man and a woman trotted past me on horseback; and I found a couple of heart-shaped rocks clustered on the sand, but the special something that I knew I would recognize when I saw it, didn't materialize. The next morning when I awoke with my creativity in high gear, I switched to plan B. In this mode, I decided to create a heart from the heart.

Fully immersed in the delight of Valentine's Day and fueled by one, dark, pyramid-shaped chocolate drop, with espresso cream filling, I allowed myself to play with paint, paper and scissors. When I took my completed project outside to be photographed, a blue jay that's been appearing daily on my deck, was sitting on the back of a chair waiting for me. After paying him the high wages of dry-roasted almonds, he agreed to be my model and even tolerated the flash.

And so, Dear Readers, here it is . . . my Valentine's post to you, topped with much appreciation, warm wishes and a heart-shaped chocolate filled with chocolate chipotle ganache.

MAY YOU ALL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL VALENTINE'S DAY



Sincerely, ~ Aneet


**I will likely post a photo on March 17th and make a post on March 20th as well. Hope to see you then.

The Price is Right - Marx Brothers Showcase

These were my favorite moments on The Price is Right: doing the wacky, zany Flaky Flick showcases.

I remember how much fun it was to depart from my model/hostess role and unleash my playful actress side. When rehearsing our Flaky Flicks, I never quite knew how they would play out. I just let go and allowed my background in improv to run free. What usually happened was a completely spontaneous and wild ride.

It was so much fun breaking loose from the tightly choreographed constraints of the show, where every tiny increment of motion needed to blocked and rehearsed wtih the camera. I don't think you would guess from watching Price, that being a TPIR model was so exacting. It was, in fact, very hard work.

My all-time favorite Flaky Flick moments were when I performed in "Phony Lady," a parody of the movie funny girl. For the sketch, the makeup department glued a unibrow across my forehead that looked like a scrawny cat's tail with mange. They also attached a huge Jimmy Durante Schnozz to my nose. From there, the hair department borrowed one of Cher's long black wigs for my tresses (At the time, the Sonny and Cher Show also taped on our sound stage.) In this hideous getup, I lip-synced to Barbara Striesand's passionate rendition of "People," and when I did, I pulled out all the stops.

I'd love to see that Flaky Flick again. In fact, I wish there were a collection of all the Flaky Flicks of that 1972-76 era.


And now . . . am I dreaming . . . or do I detect the scent of chocolate in the air? Ah, but yes, it's the sweet aroma of Valentine's Day, wafting in from the future. I will make my next post then -- on the 14th.**

And once again . . . here it is

Today I am abuzz. Words chirp through my brain like a mocking bird in springtime. Today I could fill pages, if not volumes, with words, thoughts and ideas. Perhaps it's the weather. On this New Year's Eve day, Santa Barbara hovers on the cusp of fog and sun, and the beautiful, clear, sunny skies we've had for two months are threatening to depart. The largest fog bank I've seen in years is sitting in the middle of Santa Barbara's channel and could, at any moment, plunge us into gray occlusion.


All day the fog has been taunting us, stealthily seeping into the city, then drifting out again. This morning, as I hiked on a path in the foothills, I was caught between two forces: the sun warming my back and the fog licking my heels. Within this dynamic, I found something stimulating and electric. This day of December 31, 2011, has been like our weather, teetering on the edge of two forces: the future arriving and the departing past.

Driving through town, images flooded my view. So many of them seemed symbolic of this particular moment in time.





On a street I travel often, I passed an entrance I'd never noticed before; an arched gateway in a rock wall; it was luminous and welcoming. Later, from a perch in the upper Riviera, I gazed across the channel to see only the tallest tips of Santa Cruz Island peeking above the pillowed fog.

From my view of the channel, Stearn's Warf was barely recognizable in the mist, and as I watched it, I thought about the mystery of our future. The, as yet, unknown 2012. In this moment of transition, at the beginning of a New Year, invariably we're filled with a sense of renewal. And so with great hope percolating within me, I will share an image I took at Rincon Beach on the day after Thanksgiving, and with it, I want to wish you all a wealth of perfect waves cresting in your New Year, along with happiness, health and realized dreams.

Happy New Year! ~ Aneet





** See you again on the 20th of January.

Fa, la, la, la, la . . .

And this year, once again, the Christmas light extravaganza on Quinientos Street.

PEACE, LOVE, LIGHT and JOY to you all, ~ Anitra



** I will return on New Year's Day

Lighting the way

Dear readers, my plan was to post on the 20th, but overtaken by the beauty and charm of The Season, I published the post below as well. I plan to return on Christmas and New Year's. Extending my warm Holiday Wishes to you all. ~ Anitra

As Christmas nears,

I'm finding the visual treats of the season not only in gift stores and in window displays, but I'm seeing them in Santa Barbara's foliage as well. And I believe that this must be how Christmas ornaments evolved, from the desire to bring nature's abundance close.

At this time of the year, when the trees in much of the world are bare and their surroundings colorless, having an evergreen in the house, lush with the beauty and promise of nature, comforts the heart. And Christmas lights too seem to mirror the natural world like stars twinkling through the branches of the pines.