Don't Make Me Choose

It seems so fitting that there seems to be a theme of life 100 years ago weaving itself through several posts, beginning with the Centennial of Oklahoma through the buildings I visited in Barcelona, most built between 1890 and 1910, and the visions of my home through the eyes of my cat/house sitter looking like an absinthe infused dream of Gaudi and Georges Méliés.

I hate picking absolute favorites, but if I were forced:

• My desert island CD would contain the complete works of Debussy, but I would prefer to live on a Mediterranean not desert island since that's my favorite climate. I hate tropics even more than deserts if you're keeping track.
• I would choose Casa Batlló over La Pedrera. Its chimneys and city views are more intimate and comforting to me, and the crowds are smaller.
• I'm not that fond of outerspace or sci-fi films, but I would chose Georges Méliés A Trip to the Moon as being vastly superior to Star Wars and Star Trek and slightly superior to Blade Runner. What other film has been sampled by both the Smashing Pumpkins and Michael Todd?
  

On that bent, I have been watching a lot of Méliés since heading back to San Francisco, and I keep having this dream about being on the roof of Casa Batlló at a party thrown by Proust with Gaudi, Méliés and Debussy as revelers. Reynaldo Hahn and I dance to one of his own chamber compositions as Proust looks on seething with jealousy as I feel Reynaldo's thick Venezuelan beard warm on my cheek as he speaks to me in broken Catalan as the moon plays games of hide and seeks with Gaudi's mysterious chimneys.