Here's a funny thing:
On Saturday I discovered the heartbreaking genius of artist Zeng Fanzhi and last night I sat next to a woman at dinner who been inside his house and studio in China. There's no magic to that, I know, but I love these happy coincidences.
My host, the ever-charming Mrs L, had laid a table with many small pots of orange flowers -- dahlias and gerber daisies -- and white candles in willowy blown-glass candlesticks. Dinner was grilled asparagus, sweet buttery corn cut off the cob, grilled bread, thinly-sliced yellow and green zucchini & ricotta salata salad and skewered shrimps, served in large white bowls. "You're very good at everything you do, you know" I said to her, stating the obvious. Pudding was figs and berries and delicious cheese with a coffee rind.
It's lovely and chillsome and raining here this morning after the thick, stultifying heat of last week. Autumn has finally arrived. The fig's leaves are yellowing and dropping, pumpkins are appearing in large bins outside the market, carrots and butternut squash and stews sound good again.
I'm a big fan of living one's life as if it's full of small miracles.
"Ah, another day in Paradise" says the Maharishi. "I think I'm going swimming tonight."