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Friday.

Called in sick. I was suffering from heat exhaustion, but more importantly, a big disappointment with a bit of regret. I decided that a day off was in order despite the deadline. All morning I thoughts of things I wanted to do--go to the Aquarium of the Pacific or the zoo, have leisurely lunch in Laguna Beach, so on and so forth. In the end, I did absolutely nothing--just the thought of stepping out into that sweltering heat was enough to nauseate me all over again.

In the evening, I took a cold shower to cool down and put on my white linen dress before heading over to Corona del Mar. It was fourth night of the Baroque Music Festival to which I was the patron subscriber. The night's program included Torelli, Telemann, Bach, and a Swedish composer named Roman. Dr. Burton Karson's introduction was entertaining as they were all other nights, Elizabeth Blumenstock worked wonders on her 1660 Guarneri violin (still strung with sheep gut), and Timothy Landauer's Telemann was out of this world.

I was walking to my car after a stop at The Crow Bar for a drink when I saw a bright shooting star, through all the light pollution around and the moon's perigee. I tried not to think too much about its meaning. But it was too radiant and too splendid--it flamed into extinction over and over again inside my head.

Saturday.

I wore the same linen dress. Even at 7 in the morning, I didn't need a sweater to cover my bare back. I drove the freeway at 85 mph. It took 1 hour 10 minutes, door to door, to get to Beverly Hills. It included a stop at a gas station and a long drive-thru line for iced coffee.

AIA LA's Spring Tour took place exactly sixteen hours after the official start of summer. I needed that stimulus---I've been stuck in OC for too long, where clients and designers alike lack sophistication. Two designers from my company in attendance were obviously struck with awe. While having lunch at Paperfish by Clive Wilkinson Architects, they said that people at the company wonder if I will leave to come back to L.A. I just smiled and brushed off that comment. That was all I could do.

I took photos at Broad Contemporary Art Museum and stopped by the grocery store I used to frequent before heading back home.

Sunday.

Another very warm day. I took a nap and woke up at 3pm. The fifth and last of the Baroque Music Festival concert was to start at 4pm. I jumped in the shower knowing I would be late.

Following another magnificent concert was patron dinner reception. I sat next to an old lady who took much interest in me. As it were, I was the only non-silver haired patron in attendance and the only one of different race. She spoke to me extensively about her children and different cities where she used to live. She's seventy years old, she said, and of failing health. She wants to live fully before the inevitable, she said. At the end of the evening, I walked away with a promise that I will accompany her to a concert at Hollywood Bowl this summer.

On my way home, I listened to Deborah Voigt and Placido Domingo singing the finale of the second act of Tristan und Isolde over and over again. I drove through the dusk imagining the night the lovers were enveloped in.