by_abdullahcoskun @ Deviant Art
The house of the greatest restaurant owner on earth has no kitchen.
Last time we were here, Morena took us to hospital. Sam had contracted a frightening illness, from his stubborn refusal to rest, his shattered matchbox-transit van, and a lunatic schedule on the road.
5am, and the hospital was closed. She got us in, though. She translated and implored while they stuck 70′s sci-fi suction cups to Sam and told him to cough. The Italians chatted between themselves. Tried more machines. Laughed at the funny English. Later, a bed in the corridor. Someone nearly wandered off with the chair with the drip, attached to Mr Buckley’s arm…
This morning, she passed me on the street, on her bicycle, with her dog, the both of them surprised to see a musician up before mid-day. Where are you going, Morena? “To the BANK..” Can I help you in any way whatsoever Morena?… “Have you got a GUN, I am going to the BANK”
When she got back from the hospital trip that night, a year ago, the laundry was ready. The dawn had come and Morena went to open Clan Destino, for business. She made us
Written by Alabaster Deplume
breakfast after our rest, and blessed us on our journey, with her voice that, whatever it’s saying, bemoans woefully all human inadequacies and their pitiful plight.
Then we drove to Paris. It took a day, a night, and some considerable effort. But then, here I sit, writing about it. I
haven’t googled ‘Morena.com’ but I doubt she has the time to publicise exploits, of the more entertaining or intriguing aspects of her work. Work that doggedly serves, without fanfare or celebrity, in the sticky dark of what it must be to run a business, but with at the same time a consummate appreciation of art, and indeed artists.
She might be a little too busy to update a blog. Certainly, she has no television.
I’ve been impressed by those, in the past, that work themselves into the ground. But the invincible are remarkable by their anonymity.
Every time I see Bono in the news I’m reminded, that you can tell when someone’s doing truly good work, because you don’t know anything about it.
