A Fat Purple Fig

We visited The Last Bookstore, a stunning space in downtown Los Angeles. It was everything a bookstore should be…open, calm, organised without being rigid, beautiful. There were small spaces around the mezzanine inhabited by artists, who were knitting, drawing and painting as we walked by. There was art in a vending machine.

I loved it. If left to my own devices, I could have stayed there for days.

I bought “Friday Night Lights”, by HG Bissinger, to see if he writes about football as well as he does baseball. I figured it was in keeping with my football education, before our Saints game in New Orleans.

(Jo, the last two images were taken with you in mind…especially the shelves of black books…)