Welcome to the blog of writer and musician Andrew Martin. Here I'll post original photographs and observations as I encounter the history and culture of the San Fernando Valley, the City of the Angels, Alta California and the far-flung Pacific Rim… but mostly the Valley.
His courage, his leadership, his crystal-clear perception, his imagination, his vision, his voice, were never more needed in our American moment than right now. His message is one of the most powerful moral arrows in America’s quiver. May it strike our hearts with love. In memoriam, hear the State House Bell toll twelve across Independence Square: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TW_uOyl4FQbqq82M9BeZR9svGFh22KsF/view?usp=sharing
The two remarkable sculptures are from last year’s student competition at Brookgreen Gardens, the winners’ works exhibited in a special gallery. I wish I had thought to note the artists’ names. Mute admiration must be their tribute.
We’ve had only one and a half inches of rain this season. That’s poor.
In early spring of 2019 I explored what I call Flow Falls above “the Grotto,” which had recently been rejuvenated by heavy rains,15-odd inches. Re-View and be rejuvenated yourself. It may be years before this insignificant, exquisite place gets to put on a show like this. I forgot about this film because I thought I had spoiled all my footage — the glare in the slot-canyon was so intense that day, shot after shot went to white. Yesterday, to cheer myself up I went back over the footage…it was so nice. I thought, maybe Mabel Mercer could make it all work ; she can do anything…Patient Reader, she did! Click and be transported to the ephemeral Eden of a seasonal waterfall through some of the most fascinating geology on God’s green Earth:
For years, Clio and I had tried to explore this fascinating little side chamber off La Tuna Canyon in the green Verdugo Hills; but the slender bowl at the bottom had always been overgrown, just a dry rocky “theatre” at the bottom of a 50 foot trail down from the road. Pretty, and romantic, but the ledge sealed the place off from the barricade of brown dead live oak and fiery red poison oak above. I didn’t even notice the syncline, it was so covered with blackberry brambles. Since we were in drought in those years, there was no “flow” at all here, ever. It looked like an old abandoned quarry. I didn’t dream such a picayune place could support a spring, much less a waterfall. Then HUGE fires in 2017 scourged it, choking it even more with thick muddy ashes and debris. Then 2019’s fierce rains flushed it out and rejuvenated the whole drainage.I’ll continue to document this astonishing vest-pocket Yosemite as I visit.
Miss Mabel Mercer
“My Shining Hour” (1943), from The Sky’s the Limit. Music by Harold Arlen, words by Johnny Mercer.
An interview with one of the best historians America has ever produced, talking about — our current meshugass.
“From 1973 to 1982, Foner served as a professor in the history department at City College and Graduate Center at City University of New York. In 1976 and 1977, he was a visiting professor of American History at Princeton University. In 1980, he was Pitt Professor of American History and Institutions at the University of Cambridge.Appointed the DeWitt Clinton Professor of History at Columbia University in 1988, a chair previously held by his mentor Richard Hofstadter, Foner specializes in mid-19th-century US history. He was elected president of the Organization of American Historians (1993–1994), and of the American Historical Association (2000). He is one of only two persons to serve as president of the Organization of American Historians, American Historical Association, and Society of American Historians.
Forgive the bump, but this work-week in Washington will (again) be pivotal for the future of world democracy. The lusty chorus of this song channels all my inchoate rage and sadness into four-square determination. [Read about the song in last week’s post.] We’ll find out tomorrow whether senators face censure, and whether impeachment is “off the table.” Thank God Speaker Pelosi is no longer that voice and is leading the rally — vaya con Dios, Senora, to use an old Californio expression.
The Valley Village View 