Born to be Wild

Well, I have Lou's ballet DVDs and I'm of two minds about it. On the one hand, I feel like I would rather have no DVDs at all and have Lou back, but I realize that's not going to be the case. On the other hand, I'm glad that they came to me and not to the library because they mean more than just the images; they mean a whole wealth of friendship. He used to check out the Kennedy Center gift shop and we'd discuss the merits of the different videos and whether they were worth getting. He and I both LOVED "Born to Be Wild: Leading Men of American Ballet Theater." Now, that's a GREAT production! I have such fond memories of him lending different ones to me and then happily asking what I thought about them later. I guess that's the real point of my having them- they were one more thing that we shared and now he's shared them with me again.

A good thing is soon snatched up

I was looking for this photo for a few days as Lou  always talked about this pub, the Black Friar. This was Nov 2004, the first time Lou came to visit. Mind you, I moved to London in October 2004 and a month later he was here, checking things out. Such a bliss! And, look at the writing on the wall...

I think Miranda said something really important in her post below. We should make sure we always do something Louish.
I haven't been behaving very Louishly this week but am working on it. I will report later in the week!

Cigarettes

I received a package with some of Lou's things from his mother, Jean, yesterday. It included a couple of his beautiful Tunisian tiles, which I expected, but also the black bag he always carried with some of its contents, including a little notebook, dental floss, and a pack of cigarettes, which Jean always referred to as Lou's "ciggies." (Was he carrying the bag when he died? How awful or, maybe, how wonderful that I have something that was literally on him during the last minutes of his life . . . .) I've hung the tiles. They're small, simple, and very beautiful. Catch and play with the light in a delightful way. Have left the cigarette pack on my coffee table. Feel's like he's out on the balcony grabbing a smoke . . . .