The Eight-Hour Bolognese
My adult sons don’t need me as they once did, and yet the creative energy still seeks for a channel, so I am grateful to our repeat guests, who come back week after week, to help bring the overflow to a healthy balance.
Happy Fridays in Harlem
Rachael handed me one of her cards and warmly invited me to come for a meal on Friday. I did so and was absolutely amazed to see the sheer dedication, love, and gentle handling of the many hungry people crowding the long tables, eagerly waiting to be fed.
Free Food L.A.: New City, Same Ethos
The respect and love are mutual and the intimacy shared boundless. Free Food L.A. is what provides me with a new breath every week.
Impermanence and the Transitory Nature of Food as Art
At 5 p.m. the meal comes together. All the items are assembled for the first time on the first plate which is set in front of the first patron. It’s like the last grain of sand, the final puzzle piece is in its place.
Sharing Abundance, Sharing Love
Alongside the food were large canisters of sparkling water, still water, and a homemade fruit beverage, providing each guest with a choice of drink before sitting at one of the well-made tables to enjoy a restaurant-quality meal.
Finding Friendship Under the Freeway
I wonder if I was in such circumstances would I be able to find that much joy. With little resources, no living space, feeling unsafe, would I embrace my femininity and joie de vivre like this woman?
Tenderloin: Love with No Separation
I realized I had a lot of love in me wanting to get out, but that I didn’t want to do it on my own and that I didn’t need to do it on my own, that is the thing with love — there doesn’t need to be any separation inside of it.
Free Food Tijuana: The Draw of Silent Love
I hadn’t noticed how many people without homes were painted across the whole city, that once you open your eyes to the silent realm, you can see so much more.
Love Languages
The first time I talked to Egypt she was walking in the door to the church. “Welcome,” I said, smiling at her. “I’ll punch you in the face,” she said with a determined look. Those aren’t words I’m used to hearing coming from anyone, much less a woman about twice my size. The intensity of […]
No Separation
My relationship with homeless people is changing. I grew up in Berkeley where it was common to see people living on the street year round. I would pass the same familiar faces selling “Street Sprit” newspaper by my favorite bakery, and wonder what it felt like to have that life. My family never gave money […]
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