Thursday, May 17, 2007

I Tag Myself.

What’s the one thing you could live without for the rest of your life?

The sound of cars passing. Something about it is depressing to me.

What’s the one thing you couldn’t live without?


What is your ideal banquet?

A bittersweet chocolate banquet with the lightest chocolate mousse, chocolate frosting on white chiffon cake like my mother makes, Maribelle hot chocolate, chocolate brownies, homemade Mexican chocolate ice cream, Pepitos cookies, those little French cups of mousse with whipped cream on top, crepes with vanilla ice cream and hot chocolate sauce.

What is your favorite hour?

Three o’clock in the morning.

What one place would you travel to on earth?

The fjords in the summer.

What people you’ve never met have had the greatest influence on your life?

Charles de Gaulle. Emilia Castaletti, my great-grandmother. Shirley Jackson. Wallace Stevens. T.S. Eliot. Milan Kundera. Claude Chabrol. Alfred Hitchcock. My eldest sister’s father. Dashiel Hammett. James Cain. Ludwig Van Beethoven. Frederick Chopin. Preston Sturges.

Great artists which you have met face to face:

Edward Gorey—mortifying experience
Lynda Barry—sad experience
Alain Robbes-Grillet—metaphysical experience
Margaret Atwood—sad experience
Adrienne Rich—spiritual experience
Horst Trave—humanistic experience

Three moments I was the most scared in my life:
My one and only drug trip, when it turned bad. East Village, October 1999.
9:00 am, Washington Mews, New York, September 11, 2001.
Humbold State University Music Department: Onstage at the senior concert. Sitting at the piano and playing with my hands and legs shaking noticeably.

The worst thing I think about myself:
That I am too stupid to ever do anything worthwhile with my life.

The best thing I think about myself:
That I am capable of creating something transcendent.

Three happy moments in my life:
Taking the train through the French countryside to my childhood village with the man I love sitting beside me.

Walking through Central Park in late August, just before starting graduate school at NYU.

Lying on the beach in Martinique with the Deschamps and Brian, watching the coconut ice sellers go by.

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