A perfect Sunday.

© Danielle Scruggs

+ A long conversation with my Dad,

+ Finally checking out my neighborhood farmers market where I procured eggplants; red peppers; arugula; lovely, lemony basil; grape tomatoes, a baguette (and a kiss from the baker, what?), shiro plums, yellow peaches, and vegan cookies all for $20,

+Wandering around the Bloomingdale/Eckington neighborhoods with Curtis Mayfield in my headphones,

+ Visiting the National Gallery of Art for the Beat Generation exhibit, which consisted of four decades of photographs taken by Allen Ginsberg as well as Mark Rothko: In the Tower. Both exhibits were quite awe-inspiring for very different reasons.*

+Coming home and fixing a delicious meal with goodies from earlier today (Pan-fried eggplant & arugula open-faced sandwich with a tomato-basil-mozzarella salad),

+Re-reading one of my favorite books, Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri.

Life has been a comedy of errors as of late. So many things seemed to be going wrong in both my professional and personal spheres and I was beginning to feel a bit fractured and jumbled, like a Picasso painting.

A day like today was so necessary.


*I'll be writing about both exhibits soon. Everything I saw sort of seeped underneath my skin and I can't stop thinking about Ginsberg's photos and Rothko's black-on-black paintings.