people i did not meet
in LA, i did not schmooze with cameron diaz, william baldwin, nor keanu reeves (as filmschoolgirl did on her last trip to sundance, when señor billy baldwin drunkenly asked her for a light after failing to light his cigarette off a bunsen burner under a chafing dish). disregarding the fact that i'd probably not be able to recognize these people on the street due to my practically cinema-free lifestyle, i think i'd like to see something like that. inebriated movie stars almost lighting their eyebrows on fire! yeah.
in SB, i did not meet pico iyer, one of my favorite contemporary writers who i went to see at a discussion at a local bookshop. he was one of about a dozen travel writers interviewed by another travel writer who has just published an anthology of these interviews accompanied by excerpts of their work; the book is called a sense of place. i did not meet PI because i am an idjit. i purposely went late to the reading, thinking i could catch the tail end of the Q&A session and maybe hang around to profess my starry-eyed admiration for his worldly but humble insight, well-informed perspective, and lovely prose. what discussion i caught covered paul theroux (another of my favorites), some of the things great writers do that set them apart, the gift of spontaneity that travel affords, the change that travel affects in the individual. PI also pointed out, when someone asked whether he hoped to become an A-list travel writer and rake in piles of cash (snort), that he travels and writes books for the transformative qualities of both. in the most diplomatic way, he said that one travels away from a place like SB not to seek comfort (this on a particularly blindingly sparkly, beautiful day in this privileged corner of california) but to move away from it and experience a different side of life.
i left before the discussion was over. most of the audience were older, well-off and well-traveled looking folk. i didn't have any good questions to ask and wasn't interested in purchasing the other guy's book. i mean, i could go for an autograph if it were attached to an invite to pico's next potluck, but otherwise it was enough to hang at the back of the room and listen in on the conversation.
in SB, i did not meet pico iyer, one of my favorite contemporary writers who i went to see at a discussion at a local bookshop. he was one of about a dozen travel writers interviewed by another travel writer who has just published an anthology of these interviews accompanied by excerpts of their work; the book is called a sense of place. i did not meet PI because i am an idjit. i purposely went late to the reading, thinking i could catch the tail end of the Q&A session and maybe hang around to profess my starry-eyed admiration for his worldly but humble insight, well-informed perspective, and lovely prose. what discussion i caught covered paul theroux (another of my favorites), some of the things great writers do that set them apart, the gift of spontaneity that travel affords, the change that travel affects in the individual. PI also pointed out, when someone asked whether he hoped to become an A-list travel writer and rake in piles of cash (snort), that he travels and writes books for the transformative qualities of both. in the most diplomatic way, he said that one travels away from a place like SB not to seek comfort (this on a particularly blindingly sparkly, beautiful day in this privileged corner of california) but to move away from it and experience a different side of life.
i left before the discussion was over. most of the audience were older, well-off and well-traveled looking folk. i didn't have any good questions to ask and wasn't interested in purchasing the other guy's book. i mean, i could go for an autograph if it were attached to an invite to pico's next potluck, but otherwise it was enough to hang at the back of the room and listen in on the conversation.
posted by a wandering eye at 11:43 AM
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