In Cannon Beach, OR, there is a little cafe called Bella Espresso. It's right off the main drag, and is generally full of born-again Christian kids from the local Bible school. Some of the girls are scorchingly hot. Which is beside the point, but is sexiness ever really beside the point?
Ok.
The thing about this cafe is that it is the archive of my first love. When I was fifteen, I lived at a nude hot springs in northern CA and fell in love with a boy with flaming red hair, named, amusingly, after the painter of the Flaming June. At the time, I was listening to a lot of Diana Krall & Enya & Wesla Whitfield & the soundtrack to Sleepless in Seattle. Thank god my musical tastes have changed.
While at the hot springs, I was writing all the time. I wrote in the little library, which was dim and decorated in shades of orange and amber. It smelled vaguely of cinnamon.
Back to Bella Espresso, present day.
They play Diana Krall & Enya & the Sleepless soundtrack.
It smells like cinnamon.
It is decorated in shades of orange and amber.
I write there.
And worst of all, today when I went in, there was a boy in the corner doing a large oil pastel reproduction of the Flaming June.
If you want to know what it was like to be me & in love for the first time at fifteen, drop by.
(Once I rode the Tilt-A-Whirl with a cowboy. Then I watched him ride a bull at the Mexican Rodeo. Cowboys stretch like dancers. Cowboys pet the bulls.)
Ok.
The thing about this cafe is that it is the archive of my first love. When I was fifteen, I lived at a nude hot springs in northern CA and fell in love with a boy with flaming red hair, named, amusingly, after the painter of the Flaming June. At the time, I was listening to a lot of Diana Krall & Enya & Wesla Whitfield & the soundtrack to Sleepless in Seattle. Thank god my musical tastes have changed.
While at the hot springs, I was writing all the time. I wrote in the little library, which was dim and decorated in shades of orange and amber. It smelled vaguely of cinnamon.
Back to Bella Espresso, present day.
They play Diana Krall & Enya & the Sleepless soundtrack.
It smells like cinnamon.
It is decorated in shades of orange and amber.
I write there.
And worst of all, today when I went in, there was a boy in the corner doing a large oil pastel reproduction of the Flaming June.
If you want to know what it was like to be me & in love for the first time at fifteen, drop by.
(Once I rode the Tilt-A-Whirl with a cowboy. Then I watched him ride a bull at the Mexican Rodeo. Cowboys stretch like dancers. Cowboys pet the bulls.)