ED CARAEFF PHOTOGRAPHER- He came out for the opening, a really nice guy. We played Hendrix every day for 6 months.
PHILIP TOWNSEND AT HIS EXHIBITION IN SANTA FE, NM. A PRINCE OF A MAN. WE SOLD ALL HIS STONES, BUT 4 THAT I KEPT.
JIM MARSHALL-Only he could get Dylan to smile. Jim, the legend rocked the gallery, the most eccentric man I ever met.
JIM MARSHALL.
LEFT TO RIGHT. MAN, unknown, my pal Blair Sabol, Jim Marshall, Ali McGraw. I get chills looking at this adventure. OPENING NIGHT IN TAOS, NM.2007
JERRY SCHATZBERG, ICONIC PHOTOGRAPHER AND FILM MAKER WHO DID MORE THAN PUSH THE ENVELOPE. HE PUNCHED IT. I JUST SPOKE WITH HIM, 99 YEARS OLD, CLEVER, HUMOROUS, ALL THERE.He exhibited in the gallery and we became confidants.
AND OF COURSE FAYE. WHOM HE ADORED AND TOOK HER TO HIS CAMERA.
According to AI Self-confidence refers to an individualโs trust in their abilities and judgment, allowing them to face daily challenges with resilience and optimism. Unlike self-efficacy, which is task-specific, self-confidence is a broader and more stable trait that reflects overall perceptions of capability. It is closely linked to self-esteem and self-worth, but while self-esteem focuses on how much you value yourself, self-confidence emphasizes your belief in your ability to succeed in various situations.
Raise your hand if have it. Speak out if you have some of it, keep reading if you’re like me, missing it now, but once you had it.
So where, why and what happened? I’ll go first: My last accomplishment was saving my home from foreclosure and selling it in 2025. What have I done lately? Packed up a home, moved to Southern California, found an apartment, and began searching for employment.
Full stop. After seventy-five resume submissions in six different categories, and recruiting websites, I listened to my nagging annoyance and said enough. I’ve been validated by articles about AI interfering with companies even seeing my resume, outdated job postings, and fraudsters.
Without a project, or employment, I can’t find my confidence. Rejection letters, unanswered emails, or no response at all is about as harmful as I can tolerate.
I took the next approach. I met a gentleman with a gallery. I looked up his gallery, and was impressed. The next time I met him, I said I was looking for a gallery I’m passionate about, and I would like to work for you, in sales and marketing.
He said, “Okay, you bring me buyers, I pay high commissions.”
In the last few weeks, adventures in livingness were spent troubleshooting a new laptop. The fourteen-year-old HP frame separated from the screen, the keyboard frame had a crack, copy and paste didn’t work, and something else I can’t recall.
As a born stubborn ( I think it thickened like my midriff) I continued to manage working and watching films with a screen at a 30 degree angle. I was in the middle of a film when the screen suddenly mutated into abstract forms with Chinese text scrawled, moving along.
The next day I chose an HP with a smaller screen (rationing dollars). When it arrived, I discovered the screen was too small, the speakers were muffled, and the text was overlapping when searching.
Back to browsing for a replacement. You’ve figured out that I am not an alpha beast, more like a bee buzzing around all the choices, reading reviews comparing Ram and something new called Razen.
The replacement arrived the next day. Yes, big screen for a writer, and sensitive eyeballs.
Four hours setting up 2-step verification, passwords, scanning codes, and formatting. I called my tech helper, and he walked me through a few steps,
” I can’t find my docs on the desktop.”
” What are the other choices in the drop-down?”
” Personal folder, home, gallery, and PC.”
” Look in personal folder,”
” There they are, all of them! How does that even happen?”
” Technology, now, if you want, I can email a link and get into your laptop, and we can go through the programs you’re not familiar with.”
” Evan, my eyes are bleeding. I need a break.”
” Of course, there is a lot to manage, that’s fine. Why don’t you navigate some on your own, and when you hit a wall, make a list of your questions. How does that sound?”
” Perfect. We also have to delete everything
from the HP I bought and am returning.”
“I can do that.”
“You’re better than the HP!”
Tech Tranquillity
248-429-9144
After a recess, I sat down and spent another four hours pushing through all the windows to see what was behind. What threw me is it did not come with MS Word! A writer without Word is like a musician without an instrument.
Obstacles seem to follow me from one task to another. The last few weeks were with PODS. My furniture, and all that other stuff, is in NY waiting for an address. Now I have one, so I started the process to transport. PODS added $850.00 to my originally agreed price because the drop-off point is eight miles from the original, and without prior notification, they charged my account. Over the past two weeks, I sent four emails. Then I recieved a response that they would honor the original agreed price. Another week passed, no credit. I sent a message to Corporate Headquarters, and today, I received an email that PODs would credit my account for the overage.
I remembered what I learned and took legal action against the mortgage servicer on my home in NY for mortgage misconduct. After three years of legal research, consulting every NY financial agency and mortgage consultants, I retained an expensive attorney, and two years later, it paid off.
Trickery is sneaking into every window in our lives. Put up your defensive drapes and fight it out.
After spending several summers at Saratoga Race Track, I discovered I loved thoroughbred horseracing. All my life, Iโve been a spectator of the performing arts. I never watch any sports on television, and I only attend baseball games when my father needs a companion. The art of performance is what led me to experience the racetrack as live theatre.
ย ย ย ย ย ย The racetrack is the stage, the jockeys’ are the actors, and the men and women who fill the bleachers, picnic grounds, Turf Club, and private boxes are the audience. The racehorse is the star celebrity.
The admission tickets, like any show, are based on your seating. You can walk through the gates for $3.00, or you can buy a Box for $100,000 a year. The collage of human emotions, drama, suspense, and danger, are key components to good theater.
Gambling personifies the Shakespearean twist of the racetrack. High rollers and drugstore cowboys wager to win. Some men walk out with a grocery cart of recycled cans, some walk out with enough money to buy a racehorse. They leave by the same gate, and the next day, they come back for more. But why, I ask, is thoroughbred racing not considered an all-around American sport? Why donโt jockeys get athletic respect? These two spheres of lightning truth struck me while I trampled through the mud, one rainy August day at Saratoga Racetrack.
I asked around for opinions. The Governorโs bodyguard remarked that it was a good question. He did not think gambling was the reason, because people bet on sports all the time. He thought maybe that it was because as kids we donโt learn to race horses, like baseball and football. “The public is naรฏve about Jockeys, because they have never raced.” Another answer I heard was that 200,000 fans fill a ballgame on any given day, and that those numbers donโt compare with horseracing.
ย Iโm not a bettor, and I donโt ride very well, but I am a drama whore. I took my notebook to the Jockeys’ room to ask the Jockeys’ what they thought about this irregularity in sports. Jose Santos had a few minutes to spare.
โJose, do you feel like America thinks of you as an athlete?โ
โWe donโt get the respect that we should. I think itโs the gambling. This is the greatest racetrack in America, and there is gambling in every sport, but when you come to the track, you see it right there, and people cannot avoid it. Pound for pound, we are more fit than most athletes.โ
I asked Jose what he does aside from riding. He jogs three miles every day, and walks for a mile. He reminded me that if he goes down with the horse, his strength is what gets him back up again. Another misconception is that jockeys only ride for 2 minutes. Well, the race is 2 minutes, but they ride every day of the year. They do not take breaks.
“How does the public perceive you?โ I asked.
โIn Europe they are treated like movie stars, over here the Jockey is just another person, and in sports, the Jockey is low. I wish we had more respect, but we donโt get the publicity.โ
This feels like the guts of the truth; our little minds like to align with other like minds. The leaders of the pack go to football and baseball, and the media follows behind.
Jose remarked that the only time he felt real enthusiasm and support was when he won the Triple Crown. Otherwise, they get a little column in the paper with the results. โThe Racing Form is 100 pages, and nothing is written about us.โ
โWhat if there was a Jockey Magazine?โ
โWell, that would be great, then the companies would be interested, and weโd get sponsors. When I go out to the park and run, I wear Nikes.โ He chuckled, and I lowered my head in shame. My bet is that this can, should, and will change.
There are reasons to quit and more reasons not to. The one reason that hovers above all is that everything we do in life needs revision. We are never through evolving into more thoughtful, loving, or wise human beings. Every day, there is an opportunity torevise your valor and conviction.
Revising the position you walk, talk, judge, form opinions, contribute to your home, friends, and partners. Discovering what you’ve learned, dreamed, and mastered is your novel. Just as writing a new chapter when the knot tightens, and you are trapped by decisions that are outdated. Antiquities of a former persona.
Changes in life are like undeveloped photographic images, blurred. Mentally, the angles donโt fit, like schedules, routines, and commitments. Returning to former lifestyles and looking at old photographs, what I see is someone else.
This week, I walked into Scripps Clinic for laboratory testing. The last time was 2012, when I was with a former boyfriend. J was all encompassing, all consuming, generous, intelligent, outgoing, and he had to be near me like a new pet. ย I lasted a year, the obsession of closeness suffocated my spirit and my writing.
After the appointment, I looked across the street at Torrey Pines Science & Research Park, where I was appointed Marketing and Leasing Director in 1986 over 150,000 square feet of vacant space. I visualized myself taking clients, Qualcomm, and the Jonas Salk Institute through the newly built office buildings. My confidence was slightly off when scientists asked questions about the mechanics and cable routes, but I loved that job. My boss was the most intelligent developer Iโd met; he carved me into a broad thinker, allowed my off-the-chart ideas and proposals to progress. ย Tears welled because the memory was enflamed by my long-distance running days up Torrey Pines hillside. I doubt Iโd be running today, maybe scuffling. ย Life is a runway that we have to steer for ourselves. If we allow others to take the wheel, we are not authentic. No one is steering my wheel, and I have hit a lot of potholes and assholes along the way.
The puzzle is how to live, where to live, and for whom. ย It is the same with manuscripts; they improve with each revision.
WHAT ARE THESE LISTS...ย the long list is the list you started as a youth, without even knowing you were making plans for your future. This is the list that does not have to be in writing, keyed in on a phone, Outlook, or posted on the calendar.
The long list is about cutting out, shocking the system, and coming back unharmed. It is an exceptional sensation of adventure we visualize while waiting for a flight at the airport, for the neighbor to turn off the leaf blower, for the light to turn green.
All of the things we monitor in our lives, like the need to have a cavity filled or checking the coolant level, are multiplying, and that short list is so long we rarely have time to consider the long list.ย None of those items will make any difference in ten years, not one.
The short list is a big obstacle in the way of the long list. By the time we get to the long list, we may be crippled by fear, turned into a sofa shouting grumpy cynic or, worse than all the above, we may have forgotten what we wanted.
Waiting too long to start an adventure on the long list is staring me in the face. Then I realize, I’m in it!ย ย
“Don’t you love being on your own?” I thought, how to answer? This woman appeared to want the truth.
“No, not after years of this experience. I learned, adapted, and now it’s time to take the next chapter with someone. I love dimples; if he has dimples, I’m swayed. Sounds silly–well, I like silly in a culture, from my observation, overly rehearsed, where’s the improvisational madness?”
“Maybe you’re in the wrong place, you sound like you belong in Barcelona or Mcyanos.”
“Oh yes. I have thought of that, dreamt it. Under the Tuscan Sun, DH Lawrence’s book, ” Lorenzo, In search of the Sun”-the euphoria of escape, but besides your wardrobe and possessions, your bag carries your personality, and mine goes interior.
“But you are so outgoing, I’ve seen you in social situations, I don’t think you know yourself.”
I laughed, the remark was so bullseye.
“Do you know yourself?“
“Hah, you got me? I think I do, only because my life is somewhat structured; unlike you, I know what I have to do every day.”
“So structure defines you? Hmm, that doesn’t titlt who I see in front of me, a plower of curiosity and human behavior.”
“My husband is here, let me introduce you.” I noticed him right away; he had dimples.
” I loved our conversation, and I hope to run into you again, somewhere, maybe in Barcelona.” She winked.
When we find a conversation, like a unique shell in the fallout of a wave, we pick it up, we wander in it, and sometimes it talks us through our own shell.
SELF DISCIPLINE โ Either you have it, or you donโt. There is no gray, no aperture, no gaps, and I am learning this as I sit here writing instead of what I need to do, is walk.
Iโm in the arena of a relentless athletic tribe. Yesterday I walked for an hour and noticed the runners, bikers, and power walkers along the path, muscles skin-tight, tanned, and seemingly detached from the backed-up traffic along the boulevard. The breeze felt like cotton balls, the sky a perennial perfect blue, and seventy-eight degrees.
Today, the same summer-like atmosphere, and with my windows open, and the crowds missing from the pool, I am wandering in between, like a bird that is unsure if the branch is better than taking flight.
Weekends, I take a recess from the tedium of seeking employment with AI leading the way. Am I just entering the 21st Century? It feels so inhuman, so robotic, that I counterattack, enter the sensibility of irritation, shout at no one, grind my jaw, and resort to a stroll around the lobby to converse with humans.
Without music, writing, and conversation, my world would crumble like sand. Iโd spend hours staring at the sky, imagining figures in the cloud formations, and listening to the birds.
As the war in the Middle East casts a shadow over contentment, security, and joy, I realize the subject is too hyperbolic to even mention. I havenโt hidden my Star of David necklace, and one person noticed. When my Uber driver pulled up, I struggled to open the door of a Tesla. She immediately stepped out of the car.
โNo problem, here, see the button, just press downโ.
โI havenโt been in a new Tesla, itโs a beautiful car.โ
The dashboard supported a Ipad, with a map, and she navigated with her index finger to my destination.โ Her accent was unfamiliar.
โ May I ask where you are from?โ
โ Yes, why not? I am from Uruguay. Iโve been here for eleven years, in San Diego, the most beautiful, donโt you think?โ I noticed she was viewing me in her mirror. She was in her forties, I think, with short brown hair and an air of total confidence as she maneuvered onto the freeway.
โYes, it is, a lot more crowded than my last time here, in 2012.โ
โEveryone want to be here, so where are we headed?โ
โTo look at an apartment.โ
โItโs difficult, isnโt it? The cost, so expensive. I have a big house in Chula Vista, a very nice neighborhood.โ
The conversation soared from why Iโm here, to her family, her struggles, her children, my shock at the office developments we passed, and where I once hiked.
โI see you are wearing a Star of David, are you Jewish?โ
โYes, I am.โ She turned her head around and gleefully declared, โSo am I!โ
After a failed attempt to open the lock box at the unit, Judith and I returned.
โ Here is my cell phone number, you call me, Iโll take you, maybe you find more places, we go to each one, okay?โ
The Earth spins at 1, 040 miles per hour from the equator according to Co-Pilot. Humans spin: ‘The average walking speed for humans is about 3 to 4 miles per hour’ in different directions. Our rotator, the interior speed dial in our futuristic culture, reminds me of chasing a speeding car. We accelerate one day, and a day later, we are behind. Why catch up with a runaway virtual speedometer? Because if we don’t, we lose something: opportunity if you are unemployed, confusion in conversation with digitally conscious youth, and skills to navigate your finances, health, and services. I’m about to searchthe speed at which an average person speaks, but I can’t believe I am doing this.I’ve observed a lot of conversations in this hotel, no pausing to think before speaking, the words leap like the answers and questions were premeditated, a script?
While I am sitting with a banker at Wells Fargo, thirty years younger, offering basic finance choices, projections, and a few new rules in banking. I offered my phone to demonstrate, some quirk,
” I can’t touch your phone,” he said.
” What? Why is that?”
“A customer handed one of our bankers their phone to check their account, and the banker swindled the customer out of thousands.” I gaped at him, and then he pulled up my account on his computer.
” Can I see what you’re doing?”
” I can’t show you my screen.”
” Would it be okay if I uncrossed my legs?” He leaned back in his executive chair and laughed out loud. Joseph was one in a million. I told him so, and he bowed his head. He understood.
The next adventure in livingness is looking for a new home, an apartment. Like seeking employment, managers and agents do not answer the phone. I have to fill out a questionnaire before even viewing the apartment. Once those algorithms observe my search, a dozen more websites hit my email with availability. In one day, I may receive two dozen invitations to view their listings. Half are not updated or deceptive, so it is like combing through a library for the one book you want to read. One building that I liked and requested a tour answered this way. ” Hi, I’m Ella, your AI leasing agent. How can I help?” I didn’t hang up. I love first-time experiences.
” I’m looking for a studio in the building.”
We have a one-bedroom, let me send you the link.”
” I don’t want a link. I want a studio.”
” I understand.”
” No, you don’t.” I hung up.”
On to the next, a beautiful one-bedroom, at the price of a studio. I emailed for a tour, a self-guided tour. Six emails later, after I filled out the pre-qualification document, uploaded a current government ID, and set the appointment. The next step was creating an account, a password, an identity verification text, and another confirmation. I cancelled the appointment because the closing of the Olympics was gazing at me from the corner of my eye, and I succumbed to the majesty of organic humanity.
AS I AM ABOUT TO ENTER THE ELEVATOR, the guests inside bounce out, SOME SAY EXCUSE ME, SOME DON’T. DO I EXPECT TOO MUCH? YES. I live in a culture of me before you. One woman, as we stood waiting for the elevator, looked at me, ” Oh these elevators are so slow, don’t you think?”
“Yes, but what irks me is the guests outside don’t wait for the ones inside to come out.. they bulldoze.
” This happens all the time, and you’re the first guest who said that.” I was thinking that too! Well, I don’t think people are very happy here, not friendly at all,” she said, relieved. Like it was bottled up and needed a cork to let her speak.
“So it’s not just me!”
” No! I used to live here many years ago, I moved to the Midwest and I love it, ” smiling as if just thinking about going home.
‘ I understand completely. I lived here years ago; it was like living with smiling children who suddenly reformed into I’m first – adults. So serious.”
” Yes! I’m glad I’m only here for a few days. I can’t wait to get home,” she said earnestly.
We parted, and the assurance of my senses was validated. Adapt, now as a Junior Senior, as I am still ready to be playful and honest, but not here. My attention is not to the guests, it is to the staff. Sabrina, Frank, Lorenzo, Jeremy, Nicholas, Trevor, Adam, Jazmin, and a few others. I listen to their stories, feel their pressing preparation to greet guests with jovial expressions, and patience. And checking into a hotel is no hands-on, swipe, scan, and off you go.
I chose a bench, just beyond the entrance, beside the pond and fountain, enveloped in Birds of Paradise, and plants I cannot name. That is my place for coffee and sunrise, and sunset, and a glass of wine. I can see the distant trees over Del Mar, the silhouette of rooftops, and the clouds. And, I see myself forty-three years ago, like Christopher Columbus, when I discovered Del Mar. A vignette of beachcombers, surfers, and a few scientific geniuses, celebrities, and, of course, Dinty Moore’s, and the former just horses racetrack. I was most content with Del Mar since leaving Westwood Village.
DEL MAR BEACH, CA.
Some say wherever you live, all that you possess psychologically goes with you, in a suitcase full of dreams. Mine did, and it has been a month, to fold up those memories, wrap them gently, and go away, not far, just enough to drain what was once.
Employment search is like this: click the link, upload, and then a text, no phone calls, no in-person interviews. The qualifications are two full pages, mostly in acronyms I’ve never heard of, overtime, weekends, and, for that, a trailblazing blessing to be part of the innovators, driven to success, on the cusp of revolutionizing the algorithm-interpersonal technology. Paraphasing one sample description for a Marketing Director.It is more than a Brave New World, it’s All in for ALGORITHMS: a data-tracking system in which an individual’s internet search history and browsing habits are used to.. JOIN, PURCHASE, SELL.
And AI: Machine Learning: This involves training algorithms on data sets to create models that can perform tasks such as making recommendations, identifying patterns, and predicting outcomes.
Deep Learning: A subset of machine learning that uses neural networks with many layers (hence “deep”) to analyze various factors of data.
Natural Language Processing (NLP): This enables machines to understand and respond to human language.TO WRITE YOUR NEXT BOOK?
TANNED AND LEAN BARE-CHESTED surfers, taking off their wet-suits and I cross over one in my path.
” Sorry about the mess, ” he says.
” What are you surfers, sidewalk strippers?”
” He chuckled for a minute and looked at me with sea blue eyes and a smile.
“ I’ve been watching you since I was five years old.”
” Where was that?”
” Santa Monica, Malibu.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for the support.”
” Thanks for the entertainment.”
Back on concrete and the traffic crossing, at a four-way intersection, it is like the running of the bulls. As soon as I step off to the green light for pedestrians, a car on the left almost cuts me off, and the gleam of the cars, as if they were just driven off the lot, I think of my car, when it arrives, will be the dirtiest car in Del Mar.
Several days later, I Ubered into the village to look at a few apartments. The first one, designed in brick and stone, absolutely matched my taste, and was open. A man was sitting at a tiled table in the courtyard.
” I’ve been trying to reach the Manager. I’m interested in a studio.”
“ He turned around. ” That’s mine, take a look.”
” Thank you.”
I walked into a room the size of a woman’s mid-sized closet, and the closet was large enough to hold six hangers.”
” I lived here a year and a half; it’s a cool place.”
” Yes, very cool, but too compact for me. Thank you for showing me. You look like a surfer, am I right?”
” I am, that’s why I stayed here, the beach is next door.”
” Second surfer I met today, I really admire your sport.”
” Nice to hear that, it really is.”
I departed and walked a few blocks to the second apartment. The agent, in creased slacks and a plaid shirt, walked me into an apartment about the size of the previous one.
” It’s listed as four hundred square feet. Does that include the bathroom and kitchen?”
” Yes, we have off-street parking and of course, the location, you can’t beat it right?”
” Right, thank you for showing me. I have a few more to look at.”
” I’ll give you an application, he started to the door and recited the amenities, the view the landscape, and the terrific tenants.
” My furnishings and clothes won’t fit, and I am already fully downsized .”
” We have a one-bedroom available.”
” How much is that?”
“Thirty-nine fifty.”
” That’s above my pay grade, but thank you.”
” Good luck,” which sounded more like, no luck at all.
Back to my hotel, and as I passed the valet, he said,
” How’s it going?”
” It’s going, but it’s not taking me along.”
He bent over laughing, not because it was that funny, but he related!
Nineteen years ago, I left this enclave, the zeitgeist of beaches, lagoons, reserves, affordable homes and rentals, and the Torrey Pines. While I was away, the dirt metastasized into gated communities, high-rise apartments with more amenities than a full page, renovated mom-and-pop grocery stores, reimagined as gourmet, branded boutiques, and salons that offer the ultimate experience in beauty. It’s landed in every resort, not just Del Mar. As my friend Jerry Schatzberg said at ninety-nine years old,: Adapt or shoot yourself.’
Freeways, not so free anymore, I hear and see canned traffic on the Interstate 5 all day and night, and off the freeway, in Del Mar, hit it, buster, or I honk.
The trajectory is, I wake up with a sunrise at mild sixty degrees and a sunset at the same. My former home in Saratoga Springs is digging out of snow and ice, and that is not nice. Your back is whacked, and your hands freeze. I did it, I know. After two weeks, I am still in culture shock, not just the beauty and soft breezes, but what was once casual, impromptu, conversational, and friendly is now on the phone or iPad.
What hasn’t dispersed is the polished palm trees in sunlight, early morning fog that resembles my state of mind, the seafood at the Fishmarket, the Del Mar Track, The Plaza in Del Mar and surfboards everywhere! Del Mar Beach, the wide and sandy, clean shore, is waiting for swimmers and surfers to be doused in euphoria. I’ve lived most of my adult life connecting my dream with reality. To be continued.
ADVENTURERS IN LIVINGNESS 