Thoughts on the Breeze

Trust

2011-12-01T22:38:00.004-05:00

The desires of your heart define who you are, as an individual, unlike anyone else in the world. Most desires are discovered in your teenage years, if not younger. They are few: your vocation, the impact you want to make on the world, where you live, what kind of lifestyle you choose, the kind of relationships you have. They are very specific needs, not wants, that if not brought into your life, leave you depressed and unliving. I'm sure we have all experienced this. What a beautiful and mysterious thing it is to recall a passionate desire from childhood, and years later see the path that lead you to receiving it, because you needed it. And there is a reason for it. It fulfills you, and contributes to the lives of others. It may not have made sense for many years, there may have been obstacles, and you may be incredibly unsure, but when you keep at it and follow that undeniable instinct in your gut, I guarantee you that one day soon it will finally all make sense, your life will come together, and you will feel a thrill down your spine. Your mind will open, fears and stress slide away, and you see how beautiful the universe works. It is beautiful living, to trust yourself. To become your true self. Don't deny it. You deserve it. The world deserves it.

Getting Real Personal

2011-10-05T13:19:00.007-04:00

As an artist I am doing some major personal work this week. It started last Friday during my singing lesson, when I found myself choking up over some lyrics in the song, Winter by Tori Amos. Not good! I mean, it's great that I am acknowledging this unexpected reaction, but I need to be able to sing this song! When I had some time alone at home I addressed it, and I saw that I have never really stood up for myself. (Tori's lyrics elude to something similar.) I have never completely invested in anything for ME. Why?

Acting is the only thing I have ever really wanted in life; the only thing I have ever known that is right for me. I have never quit, but only in the past year have I consistently put in the work to make progress. I am in deeper than I have ever been -- and it's not even that deep. The pressure is present, and ever day I have to decide, 'I am going to continue getting personal in my acting.' If I don't, I am just going backward. I want to go forward.

I saw that, I need to stand up for myself and get more personal in my art because I deserve it. Boy, that stung real deep; unfortunately I never truly believed I deserved it. All these crazy emotions came to me: fear, excitement, happiness, inspiration, uncertainty. 'I need help,' I said. Help will come. I don't worry about that. The reality for me is that I am an adult and I need to help myself. It's time for me to stand up for myself because there is nobody else to do it. I knew that I needed to believe this. I want to believe. I am beginning to believe.

Being personal is a recurring theme in my life. It is a larger part of me than I ever knew. In my acting, in my writing, in my significant relationships. The more personal I get, the more vibrant life becomes and the more I receive. Everyone benefits from it, but for me: It's where I belong. It's my home inside myself, it's my art, and nobody can take it away from me. That feels damn good.

My Stage of Lofty Catwalks and Vibrant Life

2011-06-20T16:29:00.004-04:00

“And so I’m back…” are my thoughts as I return to work after my vacation to Machu Picchu, Peru. I am not returning to the ‘velvet underground,’ as Stevie Nicks sings in “Gypsy,” which I imagine as her happy idiosyncratic place, but to boxed-in corporate America, my never-go-there-but-I-did-six-years-ago place, where I daily fight off the calls of discouragement, complacency, and laziness. I keep my heart open and work toward my goal of having a theater company—my happy place, a ‘stage of lofty catwalks and vibrant life.’

I have always been fascinated by ancient civilizations, pulled for some reason toward the Incan civilization in the Americas over the Aztecs and the Mayan. As a kid, I was most enthralled in the messenger runners that ran for miles on the empire’s mountain stone roads, the city of Machu Picchu, the tragedy of the Inca’s decline, and the mystery in my mind that shrouded these long-lost people.

Thus there was a lot of anticipation surrounding this journey—I was desperate for a special message from Machu Picchu—and because it was condensed in such a short time of seven days, it often felt like a dream. I found myself sitting on mountain sides feasting on the sights and views in mild terror that I wouldn’t be able to soak it all in before I left. I calmed myself with the reminder of the beautiful memories that I would have, and even if those fell away, I was in Machu Picchu and Machu Picchu will remember that.

Machu Picchu is a sacred city and the Incan road we traveled on to reach it was also traveled by pilgrims at the summer and winter solstices in the 13th – 16th centuries. Our trek guide, Percy, showed us the trilogy in the Inca belief system as well as the patterns of four. He also said that Machu Picchu is a place to unburden the dark and leave with something light.

The Peruvian people work very hard and have much less than we do in America. The luxuries that I have make it possible for me to pursue any whim of a dream. If ever I have complained, wimped out or just been plain scared, now I feel the urgency of using the ‘lucky’ advantages I was born into so I can be the difference I want to see in the world. When our trekking group was about to disperse Percy encouraged us to actively protect the earth from contamination and destruction. He also asked us to recommend Peru Treks to others since the income to mountain farmers who work as porters allows them to send their children to school.

My return to the States brought a flood of insight and clarity. My two passions rose to the forefront in my mind and everything else dissipated: theater and the earth. I quickly remembered all the earth-conscious practices I had wanted to implement in the past, as well as solutions to problems I had been pondering! Build a community compost! Volunteer at the Brooklyn Farmyards! Grow a garden year round! Help NYC live off itself! Produce theater in a beautiful garden! Write plays encouraging people to be more conscious! The amount that I have limited myself is astounding. Instead of thinking, “When I move to the country…” now I am thinking, “I can do that in the city too, here’s how…!”

What feels the most amazing however is the courage and calm I feel budding inside me. I still have my sudden moments of awkwardness and fearful reactions, but I feel I have broken through a barrier of sorts; grown into another aspect of my womanhood; leaped forward; left behind something heavy and found my reason to jump out of the bed in the morning. In reality, I left my moonstone (dreamy self) in Machu Picchu and I pick up my bloodstone (courage) as I return home.

2011-06-01T14:30:00.009-04:00

A quick preview of Garden 2011

First flower of the season -- Sugar snap pea!
Sugar snaps grow so quick and easy. I should have sweet ripe peas by the week's end.

Tomato and chili plants; lettuce, onion and cilantro in the foreground. The tomatoes are not flowering, but doing well! I started them in my window sill in March. Yesterday my neighbor commented they look like they are on steroids. They have received lots of love and rain. I thinned the lettuce on Sunday and made a small salad that was SO delicious. You have to try.

And last but not least -- a green bean plant (which I will trellis up the window), and a mix of forget-me-not and pansy flowers.

I have 4 more tubs of chilies -- jalapenos, cayenne and New Mexico hatch(!) -- bell peppers, basil and other herbs, but they are small yet.

One hang up with gardening, particularly container gardening, is whether or not the plants will be okay if you are away on a long vacation, although I haven't had to water them every day as of yet. I have two friends that will check on my garden while I am vacationing in Peru and the Florida Keys. When I return in mid-June I am definitely planting more flowers, hopefully some more sugar snaps, and potatoes (in a tire) as well.

I would love to plant zucchini, broccoli, cabbage and more of everything, but at least I am getting good practice until the day when I have a proper plot of land.

FirstLive, A Guide to Live Music Venues in New York will be available on April 19!

2011-04-13T15:10:00.003-04:00

The full-color 192-page guide includes detailed information on all of the best NYC venues including landmark venues such as: The Beacon Theatre, Carnegie Hall, and Radio City Music Hall, to small and mid-sized FirstLive favorites such as: Shrine (Harlem), Zinc Bar (Greenwich Village), Arlene's Grocery (Lower East Side), Brooklyn Bowl (Brooklyn), and The Bell House (Brooklyn).

Celebrate with us on Tuesday, April 19th from 7pm to 9pm at Arlene's Grocery

95 Stanton St.
between Orchard & Stanton
Drinks specials courtesy of Arlene's & Budweiser

This is the first comprehensive live music venue guide dedicated exclusively to New York City -- an effort accomplished only through the help of more than 30 contributors.

The venues featured in the guide are full-time venues run by the best people in the industry! Most importantly, during the 18 month period it took to complete the guide only one venue closed its doors.

Community

We are donating $1 of every book we print to the following music nonprofit organizations: Sickday, Music Unites, The Jazz Foundation, The Staten Island Creative Community, and Road Recovery. Buy a book, tell your friends, and please send along this newsletter to anyone that may be interested in distributing the guide.

Bands & Venues

Beyond the guide, our mission is to promote live music in NYC by producing high quality content for venues and artists. Beginning in May, we will record performances at select venues: pro audio, video, and live streaming. With the support of our friends at TC Electronic, TC Helicon, Audio Technica, and others, we'll have some great gear to help us get it right. Follow us on Facebook and Twitter for more information.

What's Next: Distribution, Website, & Mobile App

We are working towards making FirstLive guide available at your favorite bookstores, music and retail stores. Currently, the guide is available at 17th Street Photo, Pro Audio Star, Arlene's Grocery, Cakeshop, Pine Box Rock Shop, and more. Go to www.firstliveguide.com for more information.

©2011 FirstLive | 95 Stanton St., New York NY 10002

Gettin' all emo on Myself

2011-04-11T11:21:00.003-04:00

My dreams are not joking around with me anymore. Feelings and fears that I am barely acknowledging during the day are starting an emo party, front and center, during my sleep time. A recent scene in a dream shrouded me in insecurity, replicating a real life situation from last week — same conversation with the same person. In my waking state I didn’t know what to do with this feeling of insecurity. I was busy with life, so I ignored it; but, in the dream I was weighed down with the feeling like a gravy train derailed in the pits of hell.

Luckily I am able to take these messages and work on them in a positive way because I spoke with my sub-conscience last month, and I told her that whatever is freaky and wild can come out. When I wake up I write subconscious stream of thought free hand, like a big fart. I work it out and I feel it. Continually ignoring deep feelings brings me down, but by studying and questioning my feelings, eventually I am able to affirm that I Rock, and I truly come out a winner. This is good for me. I am really thankful for these dreams. I see them as kind things, wisely revealing a lonley aspect of my heart or mind whenever I won't acknowledge that it's needed. This is most every night of my life. I am truly extra-special.

I learned in dream time that it's all about perspective, baby. What could be a maniac shooting bullets at your knees, might in actuality be your inner heroine beaming telepathic mind waves to frighten off your old, un-useful parts, so a budding characteristic beneath can get in on the action of your awesome life.

I pay acute attention to my feelings and the rest I take with a grain of salty intuition.

Woman: Which Are You?

2011-03-07T18:45:00.005-05:00

"We women, when we're searching for a meaning to our lives or for the path of knowledge, always identify with one of four classic archetypes.

The Virgin (and I'm not speaking here of a sexual virgin) is the one whose search springs from her complete independence, and everything she learns is the fruit of her ability to face challenges alone.

The Martyr finds her way to self-knowledge through pain, suffering, and surrender.

The Saint finds her true reason for living in unconditional love and in her ability to give without asking anything in return.

Finally, the Witch justifies her existence by going in search of complete and limitless pleasure."

Paulo Coelho
(from The Witch of Portobello)

It is easy to know with which archetype you identify most strongly. When you read the quote, one of the archetypes resonates with you; caused some stirring in your body. That's the one.

Often I receive this strong sense that I am supposed to drop my life and take a journey by myself, to go live with a spiritual teacher and/or give myself up to an extreme, challenging experience. I have always hated these thoughts that come to me because it is not what I want to do. I don't want to leave my boyfriend and the life I have created here in New York City. For some time I assumed I was avoiding the issue and then one day I rationally realized (finally) that if I don't want to take off and leave, I really don't need to. And the fact of the matter is, I am learning so much about myself and the meaning of life right here where I am, through the friends and 'teachers' I have met. Being an artist in NY, training as an actress, resisting the dreaded procrastination as a writer, maintaining a lovely balanced life, is all very challenging and intense in itself. So, of course I am the Virgin, always determined to independently find her way :) The extra bonus is that I can share the journey's discoveries with my loved ones, in person.

2011-01-24T15:13:00.005-05:00

snow whisks off el trains
in swirling veils, sprinkles from
swaying elder elms

Friday I had two beautiful visuals of January snow moving in the air. I was treading up the staircase just as the M train was running into the station and snow was gusting up off the train, circling in the air and falling down in magical glitters around me. Later that afternoon I was looking through the window in my singing teacher's apartment and was struck by the naked tree in her backyard, back-dropped by a neighboring brick building. The tree was oh-so-gently swaying, and the silence of the moment reminded me of a calm Winter day in the country when all sound is muffled and the trees are mutely moving. Glimpses of other-worlds in my city life.

2011-01-17T08:47:00.002-05:00

I read The Alchemist this past weekend and for months I have been listening to different teachers--of yoga, spirituality, meditation--and the wisdom that keeps coming to the forefront in different versions is:

Yesterday is only a story
And today I am living,
So tomorrow I can die a happy woman.

When you spend time with those words, you will realize how much is buried within them. A lot of pain and joy, as well as a calm.

I hope today you take these words and explore them for yourself.

Haiku I

2011-01-10T11:35:00.001-05:00

Star-less Vegas chimes
astro-turf and small pink rocks
On to Mojave

Good Feelings & Belated Summer Photos

2010-11-08T10:53:00.001-05:00

I worked intensely all summer and fall writing and editing FirstLive's first live music venue guidebook for New York City. The book goes to the printer tomorrow for our December 1 soft book launch at Brooklyn Bowl (info to come). Here is our interim website: FirstLive. In a nutshell we have developed profiles on over 100 live music venues in NYC, including interviews and stories, photos, history, technical sound information and general information about the venues.

The benefits from committing to a project of this proportion, for me, are many. As a multi-tasker, in general, and a person with broad interests, I love to learn and improve my skills and take on personal and collaborative projects, but I have high expectations as well, so when all my intentions obviously don't survive past liftoff point I get discouraged. I started working on this book one year ago, and I still managed to produce a play, grew a little garden and continue with my singing and acting lessons, but the little side writing and sewing projects, as well as cleaning the house, and more, fell to the wayside. Funny enough, I discovered that by focusing on this one project, my stress actually diminished considerably. It's similar to that good feeling of stripping down your clothes closet to the bare essentials ('bare essentials' being entirely relative OF COURSE). I also learned the true meaning of creative discipline (in conjunction with my acting class), tapped into my muse, stepped outside my comfort zone, and to learned to focus and fully own my accomplishments (with the assistance of a dedicated Bikram practice).

The only pitfall from this project was missing out on summer vacation and spending time outdoors. I mourned for a weekend; luckily there is always next summer!

Belated summer photos:

I do love all my neighbors' dogs, really! Maybe not always the neighbors...

Bushwick gentrification

A very hot summer day

Celebrate Brooklyn Concert and Art Show

My mighty sunflower and morning glories

After visiting Galapagos Art Space in DUMBO for FirstLive

Truly.

Ideas That Come on the Breeze

2010-08-30T16:09:00.006-04:00

I think the confusion between fate and destiny lies in the unrecognizable nature of reality: we work toward and wish for something blue-colored (for example), not realizing that it can present itself as 1 of 100 different shades. That and we have freedom of choice, often steering ourselves off course of our purpose in life.

I see that now as I am editing a book I co-wrote. Writing my first play a few years ago brought to light a side of myself I had never acknowledged - my writing voice. I dreamt about all the writings I would accomplish in the years to come. Of being a published writer, even tackling fiction - a novel - one day! The truth is, the inspiration for the one play I've written came on a wisp of wind that I caught and held onto with all my might. It took a year of perseverance to see that play in its finished form and I haven't finished another play since.

This book that will go to print soon came into my life like a careening wagon (so over-dramatic I know!). It was never my plan, but how could I say no to an opportunity like that, an adventure, a wild ride and free entry into a whole new world, the status of editor and published writer, THE EXPERIENCE!

But the reality of it - boy oh boy. I mean the book is about music. Yes, I love music and I play it and almost studied it as a career, but I didn't. I do theater! I act, I write plays. I don't know about a sound system's quality and the no wave music genre and, man, I procrastinate something horrible! It's been a stressful whirlwind of a summer and a lot of hard work. It is scary learning how to edit, while you are editing under the pressure of a deadline. Editing is incredibly intense brain work. With that said, I am making it happen. I literally felt like I've taken the bull by the horns and not in any courageous pretense to say the least. Any opportunities that come out of this project will be a blessing and I can now have some confidence that I will meet those offerings with open arms. At the moment, though, the prize is what I have learned about myself this summer and the work ethics I have raised myself to meet.

We are offered opportunities in life that we can take or deny (after we decide whether or not they are right for us). The entire life path is about whether we give up or keep working, and I don't deny that it's a lot of really hard work. But I believe that true happiness can come in the moments after we've accomplished something we are proud of - something that took some sacrifice and determination. Why not keep working toward the better, continuing to improve, continuing to say Yes? Because, like this book I am editing, what I've always wanted HAS come, even if it is a different shade - a music documentary instead of a comedic play.

So, I woke up one morning this summer with an idea for a story that I refuse to let go. It just came to me - out of thin air it seems. It's germinating, for when the day comes that I sit down and write my first fiction piece.

2010-06-24T17:24:00.006-04:00

Today is my 30th birthday, a really exciting day for me. I feel better than ever and very thankful towards everything and everyone in life. The 30s feel like an adventure and I feel like a new person as well. I sense this new attitude and new determination, and I want to change any habits that have held me back.

I was out and about for a bit this afternoon, having lunch with two friends and then shopping with my friend Theresa, who shares the same birthday as I. It felt good to be out around strangers, in the bustle of life, celebrating my birthday. Now I am at home by myself, relaxing and thinking about the coming year. Tonight I will meet some more friends, have BBQ and ride a mechanical bull - yahoo! And through all the laughs and cheers, it feels really good to be happy being me and to celebrate myself - for myself.

June is the month plants flourish. The days are long and it rains often. Today was a hot day day in NYC. The children are out of school and my garden is doing well.

Morning Glories budding:

Oh, the basil pesto I will be able to make!

Chili peppers developing!

Art Festivals and Public Transportation Stories

2010-06-17T14:15:00.001-04:00

I helped load in and set up for the bands playing at Art By the Ferry Saturday. Art By the Ferry is Staten Island's two-weekend art festival spread out on either side of the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Artists sell their work and bands play down by the old Coast Guard piers. The beautiful, old administrative Coast Guard buildings and walkways from the 19th century are becoming more and more ramshackle because, despite some civilians' attempts, political bureaucracy makes historical preservation of the area difficult. Still, away from any loud traffic, it is a interesting, out of the way place, with a nice breeze coming off the water.

I was expected to be on Governor's Island at noon to perform at Figment, another art festival going on the same weekend. Governor's Island is just off the tip of Manhattan's southern financial district and has free ferry service on the weekends. Back before you and I were around, it was a fishing camp for the Native Americans and later an American Army Post, among many other things. Now it is a park and seems to be more available to New Yorkers these days for various uses. It is 1/2 mile south of the tip of Manhattan (whereas Staten Island is about 5 miles south of Manhattan). I am sure I will miss the performance I am supposed to be in, but I just can't make it in time with all these ferries that only leave on the half hour.

Here are Figment photos:

The line for the Governor's Island ferry, spilling out the building.

Figment!

Figment is an amazing art festival full of sculptures, installations and hands on creativity. I heard someone say it is a throwback to the 60s - peace and love - and Figment is only 3 years old. The festival is spread all over Governor's Island, which in itself is a great place for a day-trip and a picnic. Away from the city, Figment is an awesome, playful experience - for kids and adults.

Sculptures:

The Colors Project, whom I was supposed to perform with, did not end up doing a formal performance, but walked around in costume and color.

Violet Je Prudenia, Bio-luminescence and baby Zohar:

Some other remarks:

Experiential and sensational:

Yes, it's ALL glitter:

This x 10. Homemade put-put golf = Extraordinary!

It's getting to the point that when people see Figment they ask, how did I not know about this before? It is free to enter a piece and with all different levels of skill and effort welcomed, it is hard to resist the opportunity to create something and join in with the festivities.

****************************************
Fast forward to Sunday, which was also Puerto Rican Day, the day NYC is taken over by Puerto Rican flags, whistles, screaming, dancing and music. Ehhh! Good times. Yes, it's slightly amusing and pretty annoying. A group of Puerto Rican kids took over the subway car when I was heading to my acting class - dancing, laughing, yelling, celebrating. After my transfer to the 2 line a gaggle of Girl Scouts from NC with overstuffed duffel bags got on the train. When the train lurched forward, it was like a domino of Girl Scouts, thump, thump, thump, all landed on top of each other. That's one thing about New York - ya gotta hang on!

It was back to Staten Island after acting class on Sunday evening to load out of Art By the Ferry. By that time it was raining and time to go home and call it a day. When the ferry docked the Puerto Ricans on the boat just went nuts, banging the walls and shrieking.

Oh yes, I'm home?

They're Not Little Babies Anymore

2010-05-28T11:13:00.008-04:00

I ran across a website about container gardening - specifically cutting the tops off recyclables and punching a few holes in the bottom for the water to drain. I thought it was quite brilliant and swear I bookmarked the page, but cannot find it anywhere now. It's common sense though. The creativity in gardening is endless. Now I just want to beautify the plastic bottles and cartons - I've got this scrappy, rainbow-colored assortment of 'pots'. But, as they grow and bloom, the plants will create plenty of beauty themselves.

That square container is a chocolate soy carton I picked out of the recycling bin - the best way to use soy - as fertilizer! (Inside joke perhaps: soy is planted to fertilize fields between crops because its roots help increase the soil's nitrogen content. Soy isn't fit to eat in most forms, in my opinion.)

We can see my chilis are doing well. I have more to transplant that are still a bit small. My tomatoes are yellowing. I've probably over-watered them. I need to look into fertilizing. I love the fact that often things get done out of need and desperation - um, procrastination has no place in those situations. I don't even know what ingredients to gather for fertilizing at this point.

My sweet peas are bushing out well. They cling to each other with their tendrils like a tight little community. It is really quite cute. I can tell they are the take-over-the box kind:

Speaking of boxes, that's what kills me about this kind of gardening. The plastic potting containers in hardware stores are insanely expensive. The terracotta even more. You are looking at $10 a pop at least. And they hold 1-3 plants.(Although when I looked around my lower income neighborhood they are $2.) Using the recycled bottles is fantastic and it works. So, I am saving some money...still not really saving money though, with how much soil I am buying. But at least I have some satisfaction of going to my backyard for a salad or to make salsa, instead of going to the grocery store.

I did plant my sunflowers in the ground though because those long-rooted, happy guys deserve to spread their roots. Just did that today, but here they are as of yesterday, growing strong.

The Ultimate

2010-05-18T12:05:00.004-04:00

There are many personal things I am working on in this electric year of 2010. Turning 30 is exciting. Taking away the number, I still feel a shift in my life and exciting adventures of an open road.

Listening to my heart has brought me to where I am now and it is time to face my fears. They do not seem like they should be fearful things: success, personal freedom and power. But when it comes to the daily steps, the small things, it becomes so easy to seize up in uncertainty, assuming some negative thought. I can turn this all around, and I am. Wonderful people are coming into my life. Strangers, who are becoming helpers. Reconnecting with childhood friends who are so beautiful and full of love and life.

I do not know what goes on inside many other people. I only know my own story. I have had dreams since I was a child. Many know I moved to New York City for acting. Acting is a big part of it, but the ultimate dream is really about doing something great. Making a difference. For others, but for myself too of course. It is what I am supposed to do. Selfishness has nothing to do with it. When you hear that voice speak to you, you know.

I ran away, like I was supposed to probably. I didn't know what I wanted. Sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, watching the sun set, didn't sound so bad. My acting teacher says, when you don't care about anything, you'll find out what you care about. So, I went away and after years, I found some clarity. And my heart finally came through again: acting, dreams. It was different this time. Not a lofty dream that was all clouds and limos. It was: Emily, you have some things to learn. You need to do this. Acting!

I am doing so much more than working on my acting, but they are all the same thing. Writing, focusing, being enthusiastic, socializing, leading, charging forward. In 2010 I feel so lucky to have people in my life that are encouraging me. That have always believed in me more than I believed in myself, in fact. Many things have impacted me, just in the past two weeks: hearing words of affirmation from my childhood friend in Alaska; sharing the acting high with fellow aspiring actors in Chicago and Austin; knowing the love from my family; my Romanian friend who believes in me; Path friends who are journeying with me; loved ones who love me unconditionally. Thank you. You are helping me to see, to believe.

City Gardening

2010-04-15T23:20:00.006-04:00

A few years ago I had a 'return to your roots, nostalgic' period in my life. I thought about moving out of the city and growing a garden (the two possibly exclusive from each other).

I did get out of the city. But, I came back. And, I have grown a few things. I had a luscious sweet potato plant two years ago that would have covered the entire kitchen window with its vines, if I hadn't cut them back. The plant did produce a nice meal that fall. My roommate and I also had a great avocado seedling going for a while.

Ok, I'll get to the point. Last year I attempted an indoor garden and everything died. It was miserable. This year I am in a new apartment with great sunlight, plus a backyard! So, even though I'm fairly, insanely busy, I figured, you gotta make time for a balanced life. That's my philosophy anyway.

I bought some more seed and a little plastic greenhouse set they sell in the hardware stores here. And then I bought some more peat pots, JUST in case. See, I do know myself. I got to work last night in the back yard filling pots with soil and planting lavender and basil, marigolds and tomatoes, chard, sunflowers, turnips, sweet peas and hot chiles. And then I thought, "More! Why not more?" So I made up another greenhouse from a box lid and a clear plastic garbage bag. And it was then that I felt the blood coursing through me of my planting family. My great-grandfather was a farmer, my grampa was a farmer and so is my father. My sister is a pro. My mom is really getting into it. Heck, I have vivid memories of my father getting so planting-happy that before anyone knew anything, we had a garden twice the size to weed and maintain then was originally planned. I know the feeling planting gives.

Here's my little garden:

Don't Fear Fear

2010-04-10T13:56:00.006-04:00

Spring Snow

2010-03-03T08:47:00.002-05:00

Snow, snow, snow,
all the way down.
Up on the city platforms
it jumps and starts like confetti.
Down by the street it forms to droplets.

@ Rose Live Music on a Tuesday

2010-03-02T23:51:00.000-05:00

After a long day I went to hear the drums.
I felt them like a tribal beat in my breast,
fulfilling something inside me.

Sounds like a death walk.
Rapid fire on the drums
numbing my senses from weighty thoughts.
Distorted sounds and crashes, easing me.
And sleigh bells are funny.
Thumping base drum and a pounding tom
assure the earth will keep going round.

It's not nice music.
It awes and numbs and revives you.
Because sometimes when you want to scream
and throw yourself...
well, this drum can do it for you.

This is stark and wretched and funny
and sometimes you need it.
Sometimes blowing like rage in your horn
is not noise but music -
horrible, rude, gloriously repetitive, melodies
never sounded so good.

And the skill of the musicians blows me away.
They never stop.

Bobby Previte plays experimental drums and the
screeching of Briggan Krauss on his sax told me
that ugly is the same precious as beautiful.

That is the music I hear tonight.
I let it speak to me today that I needed to come.
Going home would have been depressing and lonely.
I needed the drums to forget my troubling day.

Up until now the only person I connected with all day was the sole 7-year old in my theater class. I sat in my cubicle at work and wandered around the city with strangers.

And at the bar I meet people and greet my loved ones and can connect with nurturing life, by now the music has spoken for me.

2010-02-08T15:19:00.002-05:00

Grounded and moonlight,
Love all, song and word.
Feel, wonder, do.

Orange & Pink Sherbet

2010-02-02T08:27:00.004-05:00

Dawn is noticeably coming earlier. Instead of seeing the deep oranges, reds and pinks on my way into the city, the colors are now much paler, and the sky is an anomalous white in places. This morning the sky looked of sherbet and a couple wispy cloud ribbons swirled it all together.

I felt a deep sadness this morning. It has since slipped into a calm. Perhaps I was just sad to wake up. I carry a busy life. At 29 I am pushing forward hard to make a career for myself and grow in my art. Last evening I spent in solitude, a rare thing these days, reflecting on the past month and I became aware that in my desire to always be joyful and happy, I have not seen how other emotions give life its texture. For if we are always wonderfully happy, how can we define it and even know we have it? Looking back, I began to more fully appreciate the mediocre days, the blah days, the technologically challenging days, the rainy days, the klutzy days, the inspiring days, the relieving days, the funny days, all of them because they are what they are: life. And that in itself makes me happy.

2009-12-22T10:01:00.003-05:00

It is the best of times and it is the most pleasantly surprising of times.

I got my little fake Christmas tree out of the closet on Sunday and in the same box I also pack the ornaments my mom has given me and decorations I have collected over the years. This year for the first time, I was not on my own doing this, which was nice. It was my boyfriend's suggestion to get the tree out at 11pm on a Sunday night. So, for the first time I opened this box with another person and the beautiful red, white, distinctive and sparkling tree ornaments came into view. It struck me more than ever how beautiful each one was. Packed away as they are each year, its like opening an early present each Christmas. I realized this wholly for the fist time, and I was proud of these beautiful gifts. I remembered my childhood when my mom would bring the boxes down every year and her excitement in pulling out each one and telling us the story behind it - what friend had made it or where it had been purchased. Suddenly I felt that exact same enjoyment - and the ritual that it is. What a fun surprise it was.

And then last night I took out the coconut candies that I had put in the freezer to harden so I could cover them in chocolate and my boyfriend sat beside me plunking each one in the chocolate pot like I used to do when I was a kid, sitting by my mom. It was a trip! Except that he shoots them in like basketballs. Hmmm, slight reversal of roles, with the boy factor rolled in, but the same memories; odd and very cool. This is only the beginning of the holiday season, so we will see what else comes to light this week!

For anyone that wants to share: I am collecting spiritual or mystical moments that changed your life and why to post here on the blog. I will share mine as well. Please be as detailed as you like. You can email them to me at: eniewendorp@gmail.com

Thank You
Merry Christmas!

A Gift

2009-12-03T08:37:00.005-05:00

I was given a beautiful gift this morning. As I was getting ready to go to work, using my better judgment, I took off my wool sweater that I normally need in my cold office and as I walked outside in a thin raincoat I saw that some last raindrops had just fallen and I was greeted with an incredibly balmy breeze. I rounded the corner and audibly exclaimed as I saw the sky: A fat, long marshmallow cloud was rolling across the rooftops and above it, in the pale blue sky of the fresh morning, hung the moon, unbelievably still and round - I do not know how, since full moon was two days ago. It was so silver and white and present and above it clouds feathered, gray and dark, contrasting what was beneath. I realized that it had just been storming. It was nice to know the storm had just parted before I arrived.

Last night I walked into a crystal shop with the intention of buying a moonstone. I have been wanting one for a long time. But a green-turquoise pendant by the name of amazonite caught my eye and I looked it up in the book. It is said to alleviate fears and worries. Now I have been attracted to stones, rocks and crystals since I was a kid, long before I knew energies, thoughts and ideas have been attached to them. Still, it gave me some comfort and I recognized that I have been burdened by worry and stress, good ones, as I am taking on new endeavors and opportunities and making great progress in my goals than ever before, but it still puts strain on the spirit and the heart. So, although I was physically and mentally exhausted it sustained me until I was able to head home. For once the trains came quickly, I made a hearty soup, slept better than I have all week and was greeted with an extra beautiful, warm morning.

I have been working hard and taking leaps and feeling a bit tired, when I was given these beautiful moments, these gifts that refresh and make life just a little bit better.

It reminded me to: keep a positive spirit! Sometimes we are wacky and wild with positive energy and whip everything into action, sometimes we feel sluggish and impossible, but we can know the wild energy will come back and keep in our heart a quiet promise in the meantime.

It Says

2009-10-19T12:28:00.000-04:00

Expectation.

The word rings in my ear like a clanging haunt. I duck.
I have run from any note of expectation.

I have also lived by it, for it.
From others, from myself,
To the point it disgusted me, ravaged me, left me distraught...from built up Believing, like sand into rock, that expectation would become reality.

Expectations in love:
With my boyfriend I was sure I was loving, gracious.
But still foolish assuming certain things would be - or change.
Blind - disregarding reality.
That veil is so weightless.
How horribly effortless it is to miss the truth of what really is.
Later, I gave up expectations, yet picked them up when spoken to me in that
Hypnotic voice, magical, manly, synergistic.
That was the most painful of all, to believe, to put trust in, to want
Another's promises, another's ideas, and make them once again my
Expectations.
It was thrilling and it became heart wrenching.
Oh me, what have I done?
Oh, agony.
Months, it took, to forget that...to forgive myself.

Expectations in myself:
Starting with youthful passionate prayers, dreams I believed in like I believed in God, like I believed in the need for faith - so strong I could manifest it -
Became weekly demands on myself, wasted time spent in guilt,
The Artist's hopeless downward spiral.
So simple now to see, the engrossed artist dealing politics, business;
Always creates a pit fall, a crisis.
It is Ideals meeting Reality:
Some retreat; some change paths; some keep their ground and ascend wisely.
I camped out, neither retreating nor going forward,
Never daring to give up my art, my soul,
And learned to just be.
Many trials it took, even one just last month.
No expectations for me, just joy in the now, freedom to push back due dates
And emphasize expression, acceptance.
Go where the wind in my creative mind blows.
No demands on me.

So now, when I feel indignation I must stop and understand why,
And more often than not, I am expecting something.
In partnerships you say: "I deserve this at least, it's only courteous."
But I say: "When does it turn to pride and does it really matter?"
Who defines the relationship, one or the other, or both?
What is most important?
Love and joy.
And you cannot appreciate those when your mind is elsewhere, trying to figure
Why this or that did not happen.

So yesterday I see quotes:
"Thoughts become things...choose the good ones."
"Playing make believe is the first step in believing."
"Starting something is the very best way to finish it."
All very nice, and then:
"Expectation unlocks all doors, lights all paths, and frosts all cakes."
I bolted and ran like a 100 meter sprinter.
But I stopped and looked back. I was curious.
But I do not understand what it means.
What can be good about expectation?
Words are only defined by the meaning you put on them.

I have to know:
How does expectation unlock all doors?
If you want something expect it.
Expectation is still a double edged sword for me.
Avoiding is not the answer, I will only be veiling my eyes again.
But balance in expectation is needed,
To expect what you want for yourself in this life, but also,
Keep your candle lit - so you can frost your cake...

This is a hard one.

We all say we do not expect,
But to really not, takes so much strength...
And more:
More reflection, than you think...
to have the right kind of
Expectation.

Thanksgiving in October

2009-10-08T10:43:00.009-04:00

It is in the best interest of everyone involved that my grandmother does not know I ride with my boyfriend on his motorcycle. You can assume why - why any mother does not want her babies, and babies of babies, riding a motorcycle. Yet after all these years and motorcycle rides, it was on a bicycle that I got into an accident. Hit by a car to be more specific.

I am absolutely fine, minus a couple aches. I had road grime up and down my left pant leg and one bruise on my knee. The marks you get when you slide into home plate. So I'll tell you the story. I am riding along Franklin Avenue on my way to my singing lesson in Park Slope, Brooklyn. For a few blocks there the bike path does not exist and the road turns and narrows slightly because I am coming up on some parked cars. Next thing I see is an SUV in my peripheral vision and the back half of it is pushing me off the road. My handle bars scrape the side of the vehicle and I am running into the back of a parked car. The driver literally squeezed me off the road. I fell of my bike and I do remember now that I yelled. For a split second I was concerned another vehicle would come up and drive over my helmeted head so I stood right up. But then I was just angry. Oh, I was angry! The driver stopped up the block and I walked my bike towards him. He got out, checked his car and then walked came over and asked me if I was ok. "I'm fine," I replied. "Did you not see me there?"

Such is the case with bike riding in NYC. Accidents happen all the time. Just two days ago a girl I know was broadsided by a car going 40 mph. She ended up at the hospital. Who is at fault does not matter because ultimately it is the biker who is going to suffer. It is the biker that has to always, ALWAYS be on guard. I knew this, but now I cannot stress it enough. The list of objects that can cause an accident is almost endless: potholes - which are a dime a dozen, animals, cars, pedestrians, other bikers, traffic lights, parked cars, opening doors of parallel-parked cars, garbage in the street, skateboarders, specks or bugs blown into your eye, etc. Driving is actually safer. You have to always be alert for something when you are biking, some of those objects being much larger and forceful than you. And the faster you go, the faster it all reaches you.

So, since I was in a bit of a time crunch I shakily got back on my bike and continued on my way, reaching my destination two minutes late only because I phoned my boyfriend to come pick me up.

I was shaken and getting tense and really scared I was injured but could not feel any symptoms yet. I have a keen sense of my body, where I hold tension and have aches and pains. I spent my 20s a little too concerned that somehow I was sick or something was going wrong with me. I have taken care of that and the combination of singing lessons and yoga have taught me how to breathe very deep and direct the power of breath either out of the body or into song, without creating more tension. So, I told my teacher I wanted to do a few easy vocal exercises because I knew it would counter the tension building in my neck and subsequently my lower back, simply because at that point my breathing had become very shallow.

It helped. I felt strange, in shock still. I went home and iced my neck and got a good nights sleep. I had a few more aches in the morning and made an appointment at my chiropractor's office. My doctor was out that day so I saw another doctor who spent quite a bit of time looking over my spine because he was not familiar with it. He asked me if I was athletic and when he adjusted me my back popped several times and he said, "Your back is squishy."

"Squishy," a good thing, means flexible and elastic. He said, "You aren't old, but you are also no longer 20. Concerning your spine, the cards are stacked in your favor to age gracefully." Yippee! That's me! Aging gracefully! I do not know the exact reason why I have a healthy back - I had an injury, a strain in my lower back a couple years ago - but it has always been important to me to avoid the osteoporosis that is common in my family, so I try to stay consistent practicing yoga and pilates, staying flexible and eat nourishing foods.

This was an eye-opening event for me. When I get back on my bike I will be sure to ride a little slower and thoroughly check every move I make, but it is the fact that I am okay that relieves me more than I can express. I am going to give God a little happy dance. I am so thankful I came out okay. And I am so thankful that I am healthy and am able to continue on this path. I want to enjoy my ancient years as much as I have enjoyed being a young lass.

Striving

2009-10-05T07:56:00.009-04:00

Sunday was a beautiful day, and New Yorkers were fortunate because the temperature dipped real quick after Labor Day. Two weeks after that it warmed up, then rained, and then cooled off again. We feel it has been an odd fall, weather-wise, or just especially unsatisfied after the cool summer, but while it rained Saturday, Sunday was sunny and in the 60s.

Even when the work load is piled on your shoulders it is impossible not to take advantage of such nice weather late in the season. D and I rode the motorcycle down to DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass) to have brunch at Bubby's. It is a spacious, hearty restaurant on the East River and sits under the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges. They serve grass fed meats and vibrant colored eggs. Their food is fresh and delicious and they offer healthy greens and vegetable sides. I had the oyster po' boy, which is fried, but I have been mentally craving oysters since I ran across a list of foods recommended to avoid the swine flu. I am not overly concerned about the swine flu, but it is another source of motivation to keep vegetables and healthy foods in my diet, especially a wide assortment, so I can get all the minerals and vitamins I need. I digress. I bit into the sandwich and it was delicious, but it was the tomato that blew me away - so sweet and flavorful! Man, what a great surprise that is. Too often tomatoes are forgettable or not wanted because they are mealy or flavorless. For that reason, I do not eat them much in the winter or spring because they are only best during their natural season. (Thanks for that tip mom!)

We then biked through Manhattan and up to the George Washington Bridge, which is at 125th Street, to cross the Hudson River into New Jersey. From there we found the Henry Hudson Drive which is part of Palisades Park. The drive hugs the base of the Englewood Cliffs which run along the Hudson River for a ways. There are grassy spots, a marina and the Kearney House, which is a wood-framed house built around 1800. It was a homestead and tavern, among other purposes, and now a museum. It is amazing how accustomed we have become to largeness - my head was scraping the ceiling beams and I am only 5'8". The house is two levels, with two rooms each. On each side of the house there is a fireplace for cooking and heating. Beside one hearth is a large nook for firewood storage. It was evident there was pretty much only room for the basics in this house. Think how different our lives have become! We have extra bathrooms, two-car garages and decorous baskets to stock the ritualistic fire, or a gas log.

Back on the road, there were more bicyclists than cars or motorcycles. The rock cliffs towered over us, as well as trees, ferns, vines and waterfalls. The sun glowed through the still-green leaves creating golden moments. On one side of the roadway low stone walls warned a steep drop off, while on the other side they held up the cliff-side in numerous spots from erosion. Everything was vibrant, solid and slightly moist in the mature autumn. As we rumbled along on the bike I thought how wonderful it would be if we could have a world with all our amazing advancements in technology, but without the waste and pollution. D and I would be riding on an electric powered bike or using an even cleaner source; such advancements are not so distant. We would use the technology that is cleanest and still use stone and wood which is natural and beautiful and when built with care, lasts for centuries. Compared to our recent ancestors more of us can live luxurious business filled lives, live in tune with the earth and maintain wise husbandry of our land. We can re-attach severed limbs, travel from coast to coast in half a day on magnet powered super fast trains and do business with India from Antarctica. Technology can be one of our greatest gifts if we ever learn to use it more wisely.

Well, considering all the advancements and mistakes we have made since 1800 perhaps in 200 more years we can learn to keep politics where they belong and not hold ourselves back from the good we can do.

For Urban Cow-Lovers Everywhere

2009-09-30T11:10:00.006-04:00

(Photo courtesy of Stephanie Summerville)

Please purchase beef and dairy products from happy cattle. Choose to buy from grass-fed instead of confinement based farms. Support small farmers. Shop at the Farmers Market near you. Have fun.

Nice Colorful Mornings Plus An Odd 1.5, I Know

2009-09-29T10:38:00.007-04:00

I can ride a new train into the city now.
Knowing the L and its quickness had some comforts,
Somehow walking to it is a drag.
Walking to the M is down and over, slower and fresh.
Sometimes new is good to the mind and soul.
Sometimes returning after an absence is better.

First time: ritually riding an elevated train to the city,
So I may have to bundle up more in the cold months,
But, work-bound, I see the new sky every morning - fresh, soft colors
Of pink and yellow and blue, and breathe in the fresh air.
I always love that.
I can always slow down to appreciate that.

The platform sways as the M train comes and as I hop on
I gaze out to still brick homes all sorts of sizes and colors.
Graffiti is painted everywhere adding a sort of rainbow
On the sides of buildings on every spare space of platform beams
And odd places out of reach.

Brooklyn is a long view of building blocks, colors, streets, trees,
All quiet in the morning, all only slightly distant from my elevated place.
Distant enough to get a different beautiful perspective.
Looking down as the trains cruises along I feel no guilt peering into uncovered windows for 1.5 seconds each.

New York to Montreal

2009-09-15T13:32:00.013-04:00

Last Thursday I was feeling as depressed as I ever get when I am in NYC for too long of a stretch. At least now I know what the problem is. There was a time several years back when I did not know that the constant bombardment of stimulation contributed to my unexcitement for life.

So, this past weekend I did not go to Montreal to get out of the city. Even though the entire 7 hour drive from New York City is through the countryside of New York State, Lake George and the gorgeous Adirondack State Park I merely got a taste of what I wanted. I wanted to sit and gaze into the shimmering surface of Lake George, see the reflection of the tree covered mountain tops in its reflection and feel the gentle breeze tugging at my hair. And listen to the sound of....nothing. Ahhhh. But, no matter now, I went to Montreal.

I ran the half-marathon, 13.1 miles, which was a great experience in itself and the perfect challenge, definitely not too short and long enough. I felt physically and mentally strong, had the excellent company of my running partner, D, and am quite proud of this accomplishment. I will do it again. Afterward we had a fantastic meal of guacamole, chicken and beef tacos with tomatillo and chile sauces and homemade tortillas. I decided that there is a possibility that Canadian farmers inject their chickens and cattle with less hormones and antibiotics than American farmers. I imagine I was fooling myself, but I was really hungry. On a side note: the post-race refreshment bag we received contained an excellent apple that tasted like it was right off the tree. The banana was great too, but the yogurt full of texture agents and the cheese slab, peanut butter pocket and bagel were not tasty.

Montreal is a pretty cool city. It has character in its streets and apartments, loads of great restaurants, parks and art - just like NYC. It is an island, similar to Manhattan. Only the streets are laid out different, and they have their own way of speaking: French, which made it seem we were much, much further away from the States than the 30 miles we were. It was a sight for new eyes and relaxing, as getting away from your normal life for a long weekend usually is.

I suppose, however, it left me just a little more unsettled. Just a little more sick of concrete and abandoned lots that could be gardens and a little more driven to build up my life so I am not dependent on one employer and do not need to live in a city year-round.

The trip also confirmed current situations going on in this country. D and I visited a Brewery and started chatting with an Aussie at the bar. Our conversation took the the usual turn of events: job occupations, so I shared with him my idea for writing about local farmers and the vast food industry, in the hope of encouraging people to eat healthier and support their local farmers and businesses instead of buying from corporations and eating food that is flown across the globe or overly processed. He shook his head concerning the American system and said,"It's not right."

And the kicker is: most non-Americans see this. Optimistically, many Americans see this as well, there are just thousands plus that are more concerned with their financial investment or what is the current drama on tonight's reality series. Those are not what keeps us alive and breathing.

The Aussie at the bar was in the gold and diamond business, of which the latter is not doing the best these days. I paid closer attention to the news yesterday when I heard that the Chinese and Indian are buying up all the gold they can find and instead of keeping it in the banks in Europe they are now having it sent to their respective countries. Even though the exchange rate between America and Canada is still slightly in our advantage, the Chinese have less and less faith in our dollar. They are wondering how they can get rid of our debt they have bought. They are wondering if we are ever going to pay it back.

So perhaps it is this mess that our country is in and the 7 plus years of living in the city that are stirring up these appealing ideas of living in the country, growing a garden and working from home. The city is fun and an endless wonder of amazing and eccentric people that I will always appreciate. Smaller towns have that at smaller levels and I have every intention of being just as active in any community in which I live. So I remind myself to enjoy where I am right now, keep writing about good food and go on a hike this weekend, as I will every weekend this fall.

The Most Unenjoyable Thing Has the Greatest Benefits

2009-08-04T01:27:00.006-04:00

It is hot. I am breathing wide and deep. I am focusing on ignoring the burn. Breathe. The countless heaters in the room blow out even more feverish air.

On my mat, in the back left corner, beads of sweat are dripping down every centimeter of my legs. And folded over with my hands grasping my heels I am making a "grilled cheese" as my instructor says. I get salty, stinging sweat in my eyes from leg sweat. This is new even for me.

Then a dizzy spell hits and I squat down, join back in with the rhythm a few seconds later and then end up squatting again. On an early August New York City day, it is cooler outside than in this room.

Bikram. Yoga. It whipped my butt like nothing has in...perhaps forever. I have run 13 miles and felt better than this. It is exactly like it sounds: taking a sauna and working out. For 90 minutes.

I went to my second class today and towards the end I thought for a split second: I am never doing this again. But, I will. I like it. Side effects include: loss of body tension; massaged, happy organs; easier breathing; softer skin; graceful aging. Continuing training for my September half-marathon, I will feel light as a feather, with plenty of endurance. Running and yoga is a fantastic combination.

If it ever occurred to you that hell could be the messes we create here on earth with the goal of mentally rising above it, just think how easy life could be if you actually took pleasure in 90 minutes of a Bikram class? Well, cold showers afterward are definitely allowed - and provided.

Want to join me? This Friday.

Summer Solstice

2009-06-23T07:30:00.004-04:00

rain rain rain
painting the car
fire poi
hoola-hooping
rain, woods, cartwheels across the lawn
grilling food
bourbon and coke
camping on the lawn - soft from rain and moles
little moon in the sky
raging contained fire
Ringing Rocks, hammer, boulder hopping, hiking up the stream, waterfalls
The high rocks, sitting on the overhangs, butterflies and snakes
Good Summer Solstice

Chickens go Bawk, Ducks go Quack

2009-06-16T04:45:00.003-04:00

Eggs. Eggys. Omelettes. Boiled hard. Chicken. Duck.

Duck? As in Quack?

Yes.

I recently visited a woman who keeps ducks. She made me a duck egg omelette and I noticed that the texture was richer, the flavor a bit milder, the cooked egg a bit fluffier. I did my research and discovered that they are great in cakes, but not in meringues and soufflés because of the type of egg white it has.

It brought to attention the time I explored Whole Foods and found pheasant and quail eggs, as well as ostrich. Those ostrich lay some large eggs as you can imagine. I stared at them and could not keep from wondering how many people a one-ostrich-egg omelette would feed. Now, I read that duck eggs are thicker than chicken eggs, so it helps to use the blunt end of a knife to break through the shell. So, what would you use to break through an ostrich shell? A small ice axe, perhaps?

Anyway, there are many questions regarding the ducks. What keeps them domesticated? Why are they not as common as the chicken? Do they miss the water when they live on a farm? And why are they so darn cute? I found myself staring at their wagging, feathered butts, fascinated at how differently shaped some breeds were from each other, and most of all their duty to stick together in pairs and act and move simultaneously. It was incredibly endearing.

Well, I discovered a couple answers: many domesticated ducks are bred to outweigh their wings' strength (no surprise there), and they have less white meat than chickens and are more difficult to keep confined. Although this farm was NOT one of those farms. These ducks were free to come and go all day. However, the thousands of mass-producing farms in this country explains the general unfamiliarity with ducks and their eggs. The majority of Americans would never dream of keeping their own chickens, let alone ducks.

Duck meat is fairly common in restaurants, and tasty too. And except for the conscientious baker, a duck's egg is an all-round treat that really could be enjoyed day to day, if more people chose to take in their own flock of free-range ducks.

Chicken eggs are a great staple in my diet, but one especially specific reason I liked them over the chickens during this visit was that they did not sit outside my bedroom window at daybreak for an hour going: bawk, bawk, bawk, BAWK!!

http://cookalmostanything.blogspot.com/2006/10/tale-of-two-eggs.html
http://www.feathersite.com/Poultry/Ducks/BRKDucks.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Domestic_duck

Kid Friendly

2009-06-09T05:07:00.014-04:00

I was resolute this New Year that I would attend more theater, however my part-time, graveyard working, pay-cut self has not made it out much. Not that there is no longer affordable theater in NY. There is still. You may have to weed through a bit of Off Off Broadway and $5 tickets do not seem to be available anymore, but pocket worthy Theater is still good & plentiful for the common citizen.

Broadway tickets run about $160, more or less depending on the show. Discount and half price tickets are easy to find. And if you are active or even friendly in the Theater world, free ticket offers are a constant. It is called "wallpapering the house", folks. It is taxing for actors performing to a half-full house; it is unbearable for producers seeing it - thinking about the critic in the chair, the impressions exiting the doors afterward. Theater is still difficult business. Nothing changes. We might never have the ideal world of properly government-supported art, flourishing ticket revenues and donations, nonetheless when the Apocalypse comes, Theater will still be here. In pockets, underground, in the hearts and minds of the young.

And so I find it in myself as well. As Theater (and any art) will never fall away, I cannot stay away from Theater for very long. It is as though I made a prior pact with Theater, that we could not be away from each other for long during my lifetime. I cannot explain my love for it in any other way, except to clarify that watching Theater is great, but I need to BE in a Theater. Soon. Be. As in exist, live, act, not watch.

Anyway, I started my return back to the fold on Saturday night, my mind jollily skipping along with Epic Theater's, "A More Perfect Union" downtown and then last evening's "Guys and Dolls" at the Nederlander Theater on Broadway. "Guys and Dolls" is practically perfectly entertaining with Roaring 20's themes, dancing and lights, while most everything in "...Union" took some getting used to. CSC's space, which Epic rented, is proud. The rows are raked steeply, the room is sharply square and the ceiling is high, made of strong wooden beams. It made me proud. The stage itself was on stilts, very lofty, representing the world of the Supreme Court. But, it took time to warm to the characters' chemistry and the narrating montage dance of time gone by between scenes felt Hollywoodish. It was fun though. We have embraced technology. Even "Guys and Dolls" had a narrating backdrop screen that looked digitally enhanced.

With all the other paths of life I have been exploring; traveling, writing, figuring out adulthood, soul-searching, it is nice to be back to Theater. It was once very simple, I have loved it since I was a kid, and now that I have hurdled, tripped and rolled past the much more complicated adult version of Theater and its business, I can once again remember and appreciate the Theater that is a necessity, for my imagination, for my spirit. Last night I watched the Broadway actors shine in the lights the way I always dreamed I would. Although now I know the cost of that dream, it was a sad feeling knowing it may never come true. But it brought me this far and on Saturday I was inspired by Theater I can grasp. Theater, I believe, I can affect.

The fact of the matter is: I feel like a kid again - in a very pleasant way - wiser, reunited.

Post Modern Mayhem

2009-06-06T18:07:00.000-04:00

This decade in NYC's Downtown & Brooklyn scene is the Long Island Iced Tea of bartending; an assorted, combined and wild-cool mix of last century's decades of various styles, art and attitudes. It's a thrill of a time.

261 Bond Street is the place. 261 Bond Street, for which there is no other name, as far as I am aware. It is where the mayhem came. My boyfriend recruited me. I helped him load in and set up the drum kit for the bands that were playing later on and I was the lucky one; I got to walk through that place before a soul arrived.

I experienced this warehouse turned gallery - a perfectly craggy, towering space of holey brick walls with video installations nestled inside, lasers & lights, eclectic and gigantic art, and one enormous misshaped disco ball - before the glorious mayhem came. Imagine an adult reliving her days as a kid in a candy store. I walked through the kitchenette/lounge, which itself had a superbly thrashed "living room" finished off with a bubble-wrapped love seat and a lottery-ticketed, laminated throw, and was sidetracked by a TV installation in the wall of...something round and unknown, it bulged and then shrunk, repeating over and over. And then I turned to the open stairs and audibly gasped as my eyes took in the large room for the first time. From the 20 ft. painting of a mirror image of two air craft carriers on a collision course, to a flying ballerina, to the political piece of India telling Pakistan to "go fuck itself", it was a momentous sight. Rough sculptures littered the floor (my favorite was the tall crumbling candlestick) and crafty pieces hung down from the 40-something foot ceiling. I wandered around the room taking it all in. It was truly a feast for the eyes.
On its own the place was a sort of adventure land, the most excellent collection of compelling art I have ever seen, assisted by the variety of flavors - not just 5 artists represented here, but 20 or 30.
And as the people began to arrive it became even more of an art piece. The hundreds of free Miller High Life cans began to collect in piles and corners; on ledges; in the outdoor bonfire pit of sticks and horned skulls. But unlike the Art Stars who party hard yet steadfastly remain most conscious about the art they are making; these were attendees, who dressed a part, with the apparent more important intention of partying. To an uninebriated observer like myself, they did add to the art; making the gallery, making that night's event, a piece of art unto itself. It is hard to say who else noticed this. Unabashed greasers with cig packs rolled in their shirt sleeves, Breakfast Club snobs in full-length onesies and long single feather earrings, Euro-trash photographers, and "dorks" complete with jackets, bow ties and saddle shoes sashayed the night away. The singer of the band was wearing a skinny cream colored, knitted calf-length dress with awesome ruffled cap sleeves. The rainbow-colored wooden, bead necklaces she wore made my night. And boy she could sing.

This was not a costume party of which I was not made aware. This is a large NYC scene that I see every day. This in particular was a free-for-all of drinking, smoking and bad manners. These people come out to have a good time, not have a conversation or meet fellow artists, as in the end I discovered, from an attempted conversation with a sauced girl who felt the mysterious need to remain mysterious. I thank the saddle shoe guy because he brought me a beer while I was video taping the band. It was the one act of consideration I experienced.

It was a wild night that I couldn't quite comprehend, until Patrick arrived. Out of all my NY friends he was the only one that showed up. And as we stood in the middle of it all, with the light from glowing nooses hanging from the ceiling and other lights dancing off the disco ball, figures prancing around us, smoke and sweat mixing in the air, we asked each other, What is this? It is obviously nothing like the stuffy galleries of Chelsea, it was incredibly entertaining, yet so over the top one must wonder, What is possessing these people? What is this apparent culmination of fashion and the seemingly natural instinct to get trashed and trash the place? Patrick spit out, Post Modern Mayhem, and I agree. It fits.
So, I wonder what tomorrow will be like because, as anyone who has drank too much of it will know: a Long Island Iced Tea can give quite the hangover.

The Horde Has Arrived

2009-06-02T04:22:00.008-04:00

My neighborhood has become overrun. I get hit in the back by stray balls in the park; not only are we living on top of each other in our apartments, we are also sitting on top of each other in the park. There are more cafes and bakeries on my street than my scale can handle and I cannot blade or bike down any street in Greenpoint or Williamsburg without screeching my breaks because of the plethora of pedestrians and traffic. The place I have called home for the past 7 years has utterly morphed before my eyes into the most annoying popularity fest I have ever seen.

I used to run through the park in lovely peace and contemplation. Now it is full of greaser girls with obvious plumber cracks and faded hipster reunions and their kids. The running track actually looks like the Marathon. Even the Polish drunks that used to hang out on the west end of the park, long before any of us, are nowhere to be found.

There is a horde of people everywhere I turn. It was not like this last year. Last year I felt "cool" living in such a hip place and I could laugh about it. This year I am irritated. Is it possible that in 8 months this many people moved here, keeping in mind all those that moved away? The definite increase in the saturation of this neighborhood is getting close to its bursting point. Or, perhaps just I am.

The first warm weekend in May my jaw dropped when I saw poor, crowded McCarren Park. It was like an amusement park; an enormous school yard of grown dodgeball-playing kids. I hoped and prayed that it was merely spring fever. For sanity sake I had to assume it was because it is such a popular place to hang out - everyone has friends here - but that is not the case. Monday afternoons are just as bad as Saturdays - that was my test, and it failed.

All my time living here I have always felt that this neighborhood was mine. In a healthy way. I know it is a neighborhood in NYC with thousands of other residents, but I got to know the locals and explore dead, abandoned blocks. There were special places that not everyone knew about. I will not even go into the proper park they had to make of the strip along the river that we used crawl through the fence to enjoy. I knew it was happening when all the mid-rises and luxury condos started going up around the park, around my block, throughout the 'hoods; when shop after shop of 2nd-hand goods opened and bars popped up on corner after corner. "Of course it's going to happen, of course. It's been an up and coming neighborhood for years." Well, it's come and I was not prepared for it to be so obnoxious. I'm really sad.

Where did all these people come from? Let me know so I can go to the place they left. I ran into an old neighborhood friend today who said he was moving to Ridgewood. I was quite shocked, but it made sense. He said it is quieter, the buildings are kept up better, affordable and it is still on the L train. Afterward I thought to myself, I would move if I didn't have such a great landlord and super, great roommates and a great deal on rent. Honestly, I see myself leaving New York before I see myself moving to a different neighborhood because moving is a bitch and I am lazy like that, so I can't really complain can I? Times come and go, things change - I know. And isn't everyone just having a good time? Definitely. Fun is certainly not lacking. And I enjoy having more friends in the neighborhood; we have bonfires, perform at open mics, try out the new restaurants. But, as summer comes upon us I think about how I can enjoy the outdoors in my neighborhood and I am not sure if I can.

Settling Some Matters:

2009-05-28T00:25:00.003-04:00

It is the artist's way to think often about creating art, but not do it for long periods of time.

Crimf, if you couldn't tell, that is a loaded statement if I ever wrote one.

Well, some artists work that way and some are actually procrastinating.

I recently overcame the procrastination hurdle. Then I was clearly informed I needed to narrow my ambitions. Although it would be cool, I cannot be a professional actor-writer-singer-proofreader-producer-trumpet player. Gardening and cooking are hobbies; I will stick to proofreading and writing as a profession.

In a round about way I am telling you that I decided to just focus on playwriting, but after a couple weeks I started missing my blog writing A LOT. I am inclined to think they fuel each other because I cannot endure giving up one or the other.

On that note, I am looking for more work proofreading and writing and ready to experience a different sort of life.

Ahem,...Saturn?

Cross Country Connections

2009-04-22T02:01:00.008-04:00

I made my first visit to Texas this month. Texas used to be similar to cats for me, in the sense I cared for neither and saw no reason to visit the former, or have the latter in my life. Life and times changed that as I became liked by a cat that was a general people-non-liker, so being flattered, I could not help but grow fond of him - Jack. So, I have come to appreciate cats just as much as dogs. With Texas, I had a roommate who loved the state. She put a magnet on the fridge that said: "You can all go to Hell and I'll go to Texas", so my curiosity gradually grew and I made more (good) friends from Texas, which also coupled with a desire to explore the southern states of America. So, I flew to El Paso, which is actually unlike the rest of the state culturally, but I looked for cowboys and gazed over the arid land, the naked mountains and kept an eye out for any violent spillovers at the border, but the place was sleepy quiet without many yee-haws yet lovely tacos and chilies. Two highlights: the women there wear the most amazingly decorated HIGH heel shoes and boots; and I found something amazing in my boyfriend's parents' bathroom cabinet: Gorilla Snot.

It works real well too.

The day after I flew back to New York I attended a Culture Catch event www.culturecatch.com in Tribeca. On the coffee tables postcards were laid out with an expressive gorilla's face (or maybe it is a monkey) and I thought, hmm, here is a cross-country connection. I was mingling with two fashionistas who asked me what I thought of Texas and I said, "The women wear the most amazing high heeled boots there," and they said, "Honey! It's Texas!" We talked about how designers advertise differently in NYC vs the rest of the country - I had noticed that just coming from El Paso. Hm, very minimal, but more cross country connections.

Then we went to dinner at Bubby's, where, shabang!, I saw Michigan sour cherry pie in the desert case. I grew up in northern MI and have wonderful memories of the Cherry Festival every summer, eating buckets of cherries, cherry spitting contests, staining my shorts from a helter-skelter pit and driving by the propped up "World's Largest Cherry Pie" pan

It truly is Michigan sweet-ass sour cherry pie. A lovely cross country connection.

I also made a personal connection while I was in El Paso. I was thinking about when I was 17 and graduating high school and I remember a specific time when I was praying so hard to God that I would make a different with my life. Now, a little over ten years later, I have written a play, produced theater with my group, Alacrity Players, acted in a bit of theater and film, traveled to other countries and made wonderful friends, and I suddenly found myself in a place where I can be happy with what I have and simply enjoy life, or I can continue to strive for more accomplishments. A larger part of me wanted to settle down and rock in my chair on the porch, but I needed to know why. It is not a bad thing to just enjoy life, but I needed to know why. Why was I ready to let the bigger dreams go? And it suddenly came: for me personally it is about confidence - simply having the confidence to go after the really big things. Realizing that was all I needed to take it, grab hold of the confidence and keep trekking; enjoying the scenery, my companions, cherries, gorillas, and my own fashion style.

2009-04-16T22:29:00.004-04:00

Oh this week oh this week, yes this has been a challenging week and I am handling so much better than 3 years ago. Shit, shit Shit happens - even blood, messy - but I keep going and I barely have time to write and I keep going knowing I will have it all one day. or soon enough. I can do what I want, what I need, the time will always be here and now does not last forever and in the meantime I can do this to enjoy the fraction I have to just look and breathe and then head to work where we all do our thing and sometimes wonder what, what, what, and the day is gone, but we will hold on to an image a certainty that we are on the right way and we are steering with help towards a better place. Always better. always more, moving forward upward and sometimes we forget to smile and a sudden joke brings a smile and we feel all we've held slide away like it was never anything. How simple we see how simple.

we love, we move on, we see, we confuse, we learn, we learn more, we love more and all can be good. Someday it will all be good we know that. we all know that. we see, where are eyes not blind? We know, we feel, may not recognize.

But love is a certain thing.

Tribute to a Writer

2009-04-03T15:46:00.013-04:00

Hunter S. Thompson is one of my favorite writers and last April about this time I bought my first book of his, "Hey, Rube", a collection of his columns from ESPN. If you check out my 'books read' list on the right side of this blog you will see that book heads up the list. Yeah, I was so excited to buy it I didn't care it was about sports, after all it is Hunter, so it is also about Politics, America and, as the sub-title goes: "...the Downward Spiral of Dumbness." Hmmm. I still haven't read the whole thing..., but that is irrelevant, for I have read "Fear and Loathing: In Las Vegas" and it was wonderful. And...I know the man.

I guess you could say, I've read up on him.

Buying my second book of his was a great experience. I had (one week ago) just finished working a confounded Saturday and was ready to get up outa there. I had already decided to walk the 30 blocks down to Union Square and that is where Strand bookstore is located. Visiting Strand any time is an exhilarating time and my spontaneous decision to stop in there and buy a Hunter book made it even better - a rendezvous on my own. Strand is the last of the greats. Fourth Avenue used to be lined with bookstores, I've been told. Now, Strand is on Broadway, with typical Barnes & Noble across the square. Strand continues to contain compelling character in its "8 Miles of Books" with wooden, creaking floors and towering, winding rows, and it offers incredibly low prices - it just amazes me and seems wrong, but right, of course. As Hunter circulates through that store quickly, I was prepared to buy any one of his books that were available. ("On the Campaign Trail" being my personal first choice and "Hell's Angels" being my second only because my friend Theresa stated it should be so, but to heck with reading author's books in a certain order. Really.) The one they said they had was "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72", but the one my eyes caught first on the display table was "Gonzo" an auto-photo-biography. It stopped me in my tracks. I bought both for the price of one book, very sweet deal. So, today I will start "...On the Campaign Trail" and enjoy it immensely.

Why all this talk and admiration of Hunter S. Thompson? It is about spitting out what you have - is why I like his writing. I mean he takes a certain loathing and fear, a humorous paranoia, radical craziness, passion, curiosity, creativity, and writes about life. It is him, but also what he sees.

This has all been said by people long before me.

He popularized a little known genre of journalism. That would be Gonzo: Experiencing what you are investigating - first person narrative. To me, Hunter strongly defined his own style of writing, very creatively; very, very creatively, and that inspires me and excites me and I just plain LIKE it. It makes me feel a part of his writing and that I am where he is at the moment. Not to mention the sensory inclusion when he was writing on the drugs - wow, what a ride. It's exhilarating. Other people have mentioned that too; using those words exactly, so it is true.

So, I like his style, but more than that I love that he followed creativity wherever it took him. He was one of those people that wasn't held back by rules or danger and he even said he never condoned some of the crazy deeds he committed. (He was a lover of guns and explosions.) Obviously that's not what I'm looking for nor do I desperately need to define my personal writing style at this moment; I only seek to learn where creativity can take me - and be safe.

I relate to him as a writer and he inspires me to discover how creatively I can create.

Oh Moon

2009-03-28T18:08:00.000-04:00

Oh Changing Moon:
Do you know all that you dredge?

Do you ever feel to blame or even empathetic?

If you are our Moon, who is your moon?
For when you show face, we fill up
And when you turn away, we feel deep loss.
I think that we cannot handle it same as you.

Unless, of course, you will share your secrets?
Or just one will do?

Now, as you slowly fill back up, you move us from shaky ground to peaceful composure.
So we learn to work with you.
All you have seen of us, circling on all sides, silently,
As we are always reaching to you,
Or ignoring you,
Misunderstanding you,
forgetting you,
Appreciating you,
As tides come and go
and animals howl in your slight light,
What do you think of our reactions, our solutions?

Oh Moon:
How do you feel when you are new?
Maybe it is actually how we feel too.
Do you miss us when you go away?

Oh Moon:
How beautiful you are.
We would miss you if you ever left for good.

Love

2009-03-27T06:56:00.001-04:00

After last night I desire to slowly fall into the arms of love. I want to be baptized in the folds of soft, floating quilts and endless cushions of helium air.

Sometimes love is like that, and then momentarily pierced with fear, frightening thoughts come: of being alone again. Even though in my mind’s image I am not falling into those love folds with another person – it is just me and love – the feeling of love can be like that if you are not strong enough, if you succumb to the unknown – the fear of your world being subject to change.

As a good relationship grows stakes change in your heart; at 9 months you might feel comfortable and happy, at 15 months you might see how much you have fallen and suddenly notice how far up “normal life” was at the start and you feel that panic spur from your insides unexpectedly…

In my mind, love is the utmost of safeness, but love needs respect and to be held up with the honor that it is true and with the awareness that it changes shape, if only to your ego’s eye. It is the air that creates its structure – that helium air. Like vapors that can fall to droplets love may slip from a physical man to be concentrated in the Creator or be reasserted in a care package from your Mother. It is all around you and never goes away.

To truly respect love is to never mistake it for anything else and for that one must truly know love and have embarked on the crusade to discover It. For, to fall into those folds of love one never needs to fear them fading into nothingness, if you are true unto yourself and once you have the courage to know, to be confident it is always in your fingertips, always curling in the warmth at the your collarbone, you can stand back, you can stand away from your man, from a stranger even, ten feet away, and see the love curling between the both of you – if you both know…

To relax, laying there in the love is so good and to lose oneself in it is even better. I believe that is okay. I believe it is necessary to be confident you can do that, yet through the mind's eye one can keep a lookout – too keep one’s feet on the ground – to say. Like evil, which need not be bothered with, yet never utterly ignored. We were never created to be utterly careless, utterly lazy.

So, I feel this slowly growing love between myself and this man and also between myself and the world, the Creator, everything and happily I lose track of sharp edges and from where it all started, but in the floating glory of helium cushions and lifting hair, I still know myself and I know he knows himself and we are safe from our weaknesses. Or, that is how we can be.

Happy Spring!

2009-03-26T04:07:00.003-04:00

This past weekend, Spring Equinox, I got my rusty wheel of writing turning again. It's nice to have sunshine last into the evening and I'm literally buzzing with new energy. I am sleeping less and I find myself torn between, the desire to scamper with the current social art scene and make new friends, and the equally strong need to stay at home and write - work on my art - so I can have polished pieces to present.

So, I stayed home for most of the weekend and it turned out to be a very good thing. I realized how out of shape I have gotten in my writing. It is very nice to be on a new course where I am making time every day to write. I resigned myself to the fact that writing needs to be a daily ritual. I have scoffed at 'the writer's block', but it is very real. And it is also very curable, it can just have the illusion of not being that way...

I am excited to get out and hike. I will be out of the city the next two weekends. This weekend I am going to Lancaster, PA with my friend who is running sound for a show and then we may head over to Atlantic City Sunday for fun. About the only thing that interests me in Atlantic City is the beaches, I mean swimming, and that is certainly out of the question now, but it is always fun to go somewhere new. The following weekend I'm going to Louisville to see another friend in her first Equity musical. I've been fascinated lately with visiting areas of the country south of Indiana where I haven't been.

That's what I've been doing of late.
Happy Spring!

2009-03-18T07:22:00.002-04:00

Some days you just can't watch the news anymore.
Some days make you wonder, What is this world coming to?!
Oh, is that an old-fashioned statement.

But, I sit here waiting for the tipping point actually getting impatient because I want to see the day when more than a handful of people will stand up and say this is not okay. Not even that; none of us need to hear more complaining or talk about okayness. When are we going to DO it? When am I?

As I prepare to file my taxes for 2008, all of which have already been paid, I see the Greenback notes fluttering up into the air and getting lost in a bloody Iraqi sandstorm, and padding a CEO rump.

And as I renew my American passport I suddenly realize the feeling of being a prisoner.

Listen, by no means am I a pessimist. I am sharing a low day with you. I have a great life and I truly have nothing to complain about. I am in control of my life; I know this for I've made sure it is that way. The big downer for me now is the plethora of people in this world that are driven by greed and the need for control so they will do such violence unto each other or not allow a man to follow his own wishes. I cannot comprehend this. Even some activists see a need for violence at times and never, ever can I condone this.

I am writing in a scatter, but can you understand that everything is just too big? Everything is too big! Debt, fighting, Government, pressure to keep living the American dream...

We're human, we're learning, and we're all at different levels of understanding. Just between you and me, some need to do some catching up.

We have the power in our minds. We don't need to use our hands.

Being Sick, But Not Enough

2009-03-04T06:12:00.002-05:00

I'm not sick enough.

When I get sick I am slightly congested, I sneeze, coughing is definitely my thing and sometimes I'm achy, but my greatest dilemma is: I'm not sick enough. I'm never sick enough; I'm not sick enough to stay home from work and I'm not sick enough to not do anything productive. So I get my sleep, juice some veggies, take my Vitamin C, minerals, cod liver oil and drink tea with lemon, all the while feeling just a bit...puffy and foggy in the head.

Tonight I made a discovery at work; a self-discovery, for it's nothing new to the world. My coworker handed me some chilies that came as a side to her curry. Little green chilies about the size of your pinkie. I took a little bite of one and hot damn! I was on my feet, shuddering, panting, and my manager was giggling and taking photos; I was looking for cold water.

And then I ate another one - well, mixed it with my dinner - and that's why I'm writing this now, to tell you, that that's good pain, man. It's magic. Albeit, I could feel the fire in my belly as well, my head cleared up, the fogginess went away and now 4 hours later I feel even better. It is not a joke, I'm about back to normal. I love not using conventional medicine. Look how good nature takes care of us.

Do it next time you are congested. Embrace the pain, reject the thermaflu, if anything it will add some excitement to your day - a skip to your walk!

Who Needs Gum Anyway?

2009-02-18T07:18:00.005-05:00

Why did Wrigley's gum change to a hard pack? Not only does everyone in this stinking country have childhood memories of the way it used to be packaged but it also uses more trees and creates more waste. Grrr. (Besides I liked it when it got all mushed and gritty in my pocket. It made me a tough girl.)

I know I'm lazy and not managing my time well when I have to buy food at work instead of bringing my own in a thermos. I feel guilty not only for buying and eating Starbucks' food, which I did this morning because I was starving, but I also felt guilty for throwing away the paper it came in. Boy oh boy, that's hysterical! If only everyone were like that.

Hear Happiness...

2009-02-10T06:32:00.007-05:00

Standing in a doorless way
She sees white light up the room
Through large windows so bright
There are only vague outlines
Of soothing lines and airy meaning.
Nothingless curtains and a simple, flat bed;
Of anything else there she's not sure,
For she doesn't need to move...for once.

She breathes. It's good in this spot,
Right here in the way. She can be wayward
So she listens for what is to be heard,
But it's not time for ears.
Now is to welcome stillness,
The sense of being, and being happy,
Which comes truly from power,
The power to act.

Michigan Winter Poem

2009-02-03T20:50:00.002-05:00

Author Unknown

It's winter here in Michigan
And the gentle breezes blow,
Seventy miles an hour,
At twenty five below.
Oh, how I love ole Michigan
When the snow's up to your butt.
You take a breath of winter
And your nose freezes shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around.
I could never leave my Michigan
Cause I'm frozen to the ground!

2009-01-13T00:51:00.003-05:00

I'm certainly on a New Year's kick, seriously.

I started this week by quitting a project.
I used to pride myself in not being a quitter, but there comes a time in everyone's life when circumstances make you turn the other way - make you become what you didn't think you'd ever become. The tables have turned.

I'm being a bit facetious. I was set to act in a film shoot this week and while the minor disorganization leading up to this week didn't alarm me, nobody but myself showing up to a scheduled rehearsal on Sunday did enough to alert me to a problem.

Man, I have gotten sucked into unorganized, unprofessional projects in the past, without the capability of say, "No I'm not doing this," so this time...I couldn't do it. Not only does it take the fun out of it, but it just brings unnecessary drama. Even though I was leaving people in the lurch, I was also left in the lurch and hung out to dry, man!

I work so hard to create quality material and produce it in an organized manner, that I have come to expect that from other people, but it's not always easy to find. It's nice to have a standard, but consequently I do need to work toward meeting like-minded folks.

That has been my goal for years, so this year it is merely italicized, man!

So, I took this week off work, planning to shoot, but instead I'll have plenty of wonderful time to reflect on last year and think about the year to come. In fact, I am taking the rest of this month to coast a bit, gear up for the rest of the year.

Like I said, I take this New Year's stuff seriously. I'm not trying to lose no 20 lbs. I'm talking about writing another play, plus some one acts. I'm talking about moving my theater group up to the next level. I am going to run more too.

But, seriously, I'm still wondering, what are you doing this year?

How will this be a New Year for You?

2008-12-30T01:41:00.006-05:00

1) I needed a year to not pursue acting.

Many actors come to New York (or L.A.) with a dream, an ideal, which eventually crashes course with reality. With my friend Stephanie it was the magic of the companies producing theater on Broadway slapping her hard in the face when she realized creativity sat second place to getting butts in the seats and making moolah.

For my friend Libby it was getting back-stabbed and passed-over after suffering her time and energy show after show.

For me it was not connecting with an agent - finding it nearly impossible to connect with anyone in this business.

The truth is, reality can totally ruin it for you if you're not careful. Reevaluation, a break, but most importantly reconnecting to why the passion lived and lives in you is a key; being true to yourself.

2) I love making a "New Year's Resolution" that I truly want and for which I'm excited!

I think of it as a minor goal, an improvement on or a promise to myself. If need be, I keep it very simple. Sometimes it's a mantra, a way to live or think. 'Pray more, worry less,' I used two years ago.

So, after letting myself not carry a care for acting for a year, now I want to care (in a new way) and boy does it feel good! This year I will again be a physical presence in the theater audience, absorbing and applying it with a fresh, better-trained mind. I will know what is going on on Broadway. I will see all the shows.

I think I live like I will not be living in this city 3 years from now, but I am here now and don't know when I will leave so, I need to act accordingly.

My dream of acting on Broadway is still fierce.

What will be new for you this year?

2008-12-11T09:44:00.002-05:00

Merry Christmas!

Yes, I'm a New Yorker

2008-12-10T01:45:00.008-05:00

I am asked so often, "You like living there?" and I've come to dread it a little, but it's a natural question usually asked with genuine curiosity, albeit incredulously. I kind of sigh to myself and nod my head, basically returning my similar view on this mysterious phenomenon.

I am a surveyor.
A close-by wanderer - wherever I can get in an afternoons walk.

For years now I've been feeling the call back to the country while just last month it dawned on me that I'm on a very happy exhilarating path here.
What to do?
Not worry about it.

Three years ago the New York subway and bus workers went on strike. I was doing temp work in Times Square and had to walk home every day. I would walk down Broadway til I got to Delancey and then head east over the Williamsburg Bridge and wind my way northeast to my home in Greenpoint - about 6 miles total. By the third day I was incredibly angry but it opened my eyes to walking. Oops, I'd forgotten.

Walking has always been spiritual.
I wandered - walked - around my childhood home. Explored the woods growing up, found trails, shortcuts, hideouts, special spots, waterfalls. New York City is known for being a walking city, but there's a whole other level you can go to!
This is how I've made it my home.
My own.
I've explored lots of nooks and crannies. I've found the amazing views under the one-of-a-kind sky that each new day holds, I've found the holes in the fences to the river front, I've watched the rezoning of the river front, I've stood on the south tip and I've stood on the north tip. I remember the first time I saw Lady Liberty. I know this city.

When you walk across a bridge it's cold, it's windy! It's kind of loud, it shakes, you can't speak on a cell phone - I've tried.
The cityscape is breathtaking, the East River is rippling and flowing below and the sun is wherever it is.
I've stretched my legs to the limit.
I can get to where I need to go.
I don't need no MTA.
This is my city.
I walk,
I run,
I bike,
Damn if I get a ticket for climbing a tree.

And it's a whole new thing to discover at night.

It's different finding the sun here.
It's different finding the moon here.
You notice the shadows more - they are more definite.
It's different discovering plants and blooming tree blossoms (I put them in a glass of water on the bathroom sink), but they're all here.
Slugs on the sidewalks and all.

In the upstairs of my home I see the sun setting over the city sparkling and reflecting on the clouds, twinkling against the Crystler Building.

I can no longer say this city is unnatural. I can't say it's natural either, but...there's energy, there's discovery, there's something...and it doesn't need to be explained.

If anything is unnatural its,
5th Avenue,
penthouses,
$1000 omelets,
Times Square in all its endlessness
and the credit that Wall Street encourages.

Who cares what they say, "If you've been in New York 6, 11, 12 years you're a New Yorker." There are a million types of New Yorkers and I am now one of them.

A new friend in an email said, "I can see you as a farm girl. You have that Midwestern sweetness and freshness to you-it's a nice quality!"

Well I'm THAT New Yorker!

2008-12-02T01:32:00.000-05:00

My Hippie Dude Name Is:

Cedar

Hippie Dude Name Generator

The Power of Life

2008-11-05T04:37:00.004-05:00

My father visited me two weeks ago on his first trip to New York City. I asked him how he liked the city and he said with a chuckle, "It's just like any other city, Emmy." Through his eyes, yes it is; it's built on concrete, in blocks, adjacent to more blocks and cut through by highways rumbling and stinking of loud trucks, cabs and SUVs. But as we walked to breakfast at a cafe he commented on how big and tall the trees were that lined the avenue and that they grew so healthy from such a tiny patch of soil, without the benefit of dropped leaves. (? - duh, leaves fall in the autumn, fertilize the soil, while the trees rest and focus on strengthening their root system.) This time I chuckled because I already knew this - I see life everywhere in the city - not only the vibrant character, culture and architecture that we New Yorkers brag about, but I see plants and trees growing anywhere they can get a chance. Sunday T-Babe and I went on a 5 hour walk through Queens and back into Brooklyn ending our trek in an industrial neighborhood where trees grew left and right in the cracks between asphalt and building walls. Grass would grow everywhere here if it could.

It is sad seeing these pathetic things growing out of cracks, but it is not so unlike trees clinging to the sheer rock-faces of New Zealand's fjords. Life is precarious in both places and one would never think to compare them, but they both show just how indestructible life is. What a miracle it is to the core. The thing scientists will never be able to completely explain.

As much as we humans destroy (we have called ourselves the cancer of the earth), solace can be taken in the fact that if we didn't continue to poison and stamp flora out every day, it would overtake this city in a very short time. A mushroom popped up in the pot of an avocado tree my roommate and I sprouted and planted. Where did it come from? Through the window? Who knows?

It is the same with our bodies. We may be sick, cancerous, diabetic, or incognizant, but one can be healthy again through nutritious food and healthy surroundings. Life can spring up again. Sores and crooked limbs can grow healthy. It's amazing. No matter how much we destroy, alter and keep stamping out, life will always be there making a comeback, ready to take the opportunity!

2008-11-02T01:05:00.004-04:00

Created by my friend Frank Reynoso.
http://freynosoart.blogspot.com/
Click for a larger view.

The Limbo Bridge

2008-10-16T03:45:00.003-04:00

T Babe is in limbo - prepared and wanting to lead the alternative life for which she yearns, yet stuck in NYC with 8 months left on her apartment lease. New York can be a cruel place if you are down and out in it's long winter.

In March she is going to walk to Boston. Once she is physically free, next July, she is going to walk until her spirit is free.

Her father doesn't approve, and society would concur, but where is it written, where has it been made law that mankind is to choose a career from an accepted list?

We tend to look at the word career now as how you make your money. Career can also be ones course through life. And only in that second (and more original definition) can the possibilities suddenly become endless! Suddenly money falls from objectivity and your soul's true desires rise to the top.

So, T Babe is gonna walk. She's gonna walk until her head is clear of all the voices that have commanded her all her life. She is going to help others and be helped. She is going to walk through hill and dale, in wind and rain and blessed sunshine and she will find her way, in her own perfect way. Because nobody needs to tell her anything. It is her right to to find what is best for her and it is her right to fight for the right. She is going to forget her weekly budget and the pressure that goes along with it, throw away her makeup, sleep in the trees, provide for herself in a way money cannot and live her life.

Afterward, being in limbo will never be as hard.

T Babe has the courage to do away with the bonds and responsibilities that give the illusion of security yet drain our spirit. She will find more peace, joy and love because of this and it is very commendable.

p.s. Don't be jealous, you can follow suit, for nobody judges in this world.

Move On, Let Go - I Say!

2008-10-14T05:10:00.006-04:00

I work at night, a few footsteps from Times Square.
My co-worker, a vocal animal-rights supporter, and I were walking through to get some coffee from the deli when we saw a horse drawn carriage. New York is the only city to continue this tradition, they spill down from Central Park. He's filled us all in (at the office) about the horses' atrocious 3rd floor concrete stables, etc. He said, "I can't even look [at that horse], it makes me sick."

I thought about it. I feel bad for the horses, they should be running on green grass, but at the same time most of them look pretty healthy. What can you do? What gets me is all the electricity that powers Times Square to shine so brightly all night. Good grief, I could read a book out there at 3am. There are lit-up billboards the size of movie screens everywhere.

Why is this necessary? It seems to me a symbol of ignorant, stubborn pride. What a stupid waste. There are no tourists in Times Square at 3am and if there are, they are drunk. In that case they might need some guiding lights.

Guiding lights. Guiding lights. America the guiding light.
Y'know, 10 years ago we could have headed up alternative energy and alternative engines and been the leader, made business for our economy, kept some respect. Man we are idiots. Fools to power and not even smart - not smart at all.

I don't know about you, but I looooove butter (organic only of course)

2008-10-09T02:20:00.007-04:00

I have a new book in my hands called, The Omnivore's Dilemma. In the introduction Michael Pollan writes (he's speaking about the Atkin's fad diet):

So violent a change in a culture's eating habits is surely the sign of a national eating disorder. Certainly it would never have happened in a culture in possession of deeply rooted traditions surrounding food and eating. But then, such a culture would not feel the need for its most august legislative body to ever deliberate the nation's 'dietary goals' - or, for that matter, to wage political battle every few years over the precise design of an official government graphic called the 'food pyramid.' A country with a stable culture of food would not shell out millions for the quackery (or common sense) of a new diet book every January. It would not be susceptible to the pendulum swings of food scares or fads, to the apotheosis every few years of one newly discovered nutrient and the demonization of another. It would not be apt to confuse protein bars and food supplements with meals or breakfast cereals with medicines. It probably would not eat a fifth of its meals in cars or feed fully a third of its children at a fast-food outlet every day. And it surely would not be nearly so fat.

And on that note, I am going to recommend a cookbook! It must be noted though that, Nourishing Traditions, by Sally Fallon would never have been necessary if we hadn't let the processed food industry take over our pantry shelves and stomachs because that is exactly what the book counters. In its covers are the most nourishing and satisfying recipes I have ever tasted. They are made from raw ingredients prepared in the traditional ways that humans have used since the beginning of time. Examples are making your beef stocks, salad dressings from scratch, cooking legumes and grains correctly so your body can digest them completely and absorb all the nutrients available, and lacto-fermenting drinks and vegetables for the winter months - this process also increases their nutritional value.

I'll be frank, it requires much more time and use of your hands, but benefits returned from this dedication are so fruitful, it is at least worth a try. And the book is also packed full of dietary information.

I have noticed for myself that if I include cooked greens such as chard, kale and collard in my diet every week, any inkling of a running nose or sore throat disappears. Our diet is such a large part of our overall health. Who wants to scrimp and count calories? Let's eat well and enjoy it!

2008-10-08T03:45:00.002-04:00

I am exhausted. Between rehearsing and marketing my play Growing Season and watching all this financial and election news I need to go study some flowers or swim with the dolphins or something.

Or maybe just plan my next WWOOFing trip. (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms)

Many of you know I was in New Zealand last winter doing this with my sister, Claire. I started this blog shortly before that trip. Sometimes we were just put to work, instead of working side by side with the farm owners, but it was still great to be outside working and nurturing life.

So, this winter I plan to do it again, but try it out in the U.S. of A. Baby.
Since I returned from New Zealand, the plan was going to go to Hawaii, but I will see what my financial situation is like when time comes to purchase the plane ticket. I also have New Mexico, Florida, Arizona and California as options. Oh, and don't forget the U.S. Virgin Islands!!! Oh ho ho ho ho!

New York City is awesome but there is also so much else out there, you know?

By the way check out my other blog alacrityplayers.blogspot.com
It has detailed information for the play Growing Season which I wrote and am acting in, going up October 23 - 25.

Everything Away

2008-09-25T20:01:00.004-04:00

The wind is blowing all away.
A season is upon me
That I've skirted 'round to play -
Games of pretense that I'm free.
But freedom is as wily
For every step up that I make
It appears in new face.
And though it is a constant chase,
Friendlier it becomes.
Easier to recognize.

When thoughtless deeds are done,
Is it destiny that's won
If wrong decisions consciously made
Keep me in the same spot laid?

Future calls
The road widens
Guilt has his time
But down crumble walls
Once and for all -
Illusions of black and white.
My mystery prevails,
Yet I know it quite
Well and time hails,

Me through my country to explore.

My Precious Tiffany

2008-09-23T02:14:00.004-04:00

NEVER in my life did I expect to own Tiffany jewelry and yet here I am with a bracelet on my wrist. I tend to disregard fads. Tiffany jewelry shouldn't be regarded as a fad (it is beautiful and well crafted), but every single upper East Side woman owns a piece or several...so, eh, why not find something a little more original and....well, affordable?

Yet, here I am with a Tiffany bracelet on my wrist. I am amazed and in awe of the shininess and pleased - it's beautiful. It's at home on my wrist and it's from a dear friend.

She dotes on me like a boyfriend. I called her and said, "Okay, you are now officially crazy. What are you doing buying me a bracelet like that?" "Because you deserve it." Well, wow. What do you say to that? It's nice to hear from a man, but how often do you hear it from a friend?

Somehow, and only from her, spending money does show the depth of her devotion. Because money means so little to both of us. It truly is why and because she just wants to.

I received it in the mail today - two days after the red, plastic, heart necklace she gave me last spring fell off its' ribbon and shattered on the sidewalk like a piece of hard candy. That made me really sad. I carried the bottom point with me for a few minutes. How lucky was I that I was with another wonderful friend who said, "I think when a necklace breaks you are letting something go. There is a release."

And to my dear friend and roommate, however much we drive each other crazy, for certain will we both the better for it be. I am Yoda.

2008-09-18T06:52:00.002-04:00

Courtesy of Information Clearing House http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/

Number Of Iraqis Slaughtered Since The U.S. Invaded Iraq: 1,267,401

Number of U.S. Military Personnel Sacrificed (Officially acknowledged) In America's War On Iraq: 4,160

And this will put things in perspective for you:
http://www.nationalpriorities.org/costofwar_home

"What is not allowed is to question the inquisition."

2008-09-17T04:19:00.005-04:00

If you want to read a doozy of an article click on the heading above!

It has taken me a long time to grasp an understanding of American politics. I started reading Time magazine long ago, however, I never really liked the magazine because it never seemed I was being informed of anything, it was just words. Plus, the articles are boring and face it, if you know me just a little bit, you know I'm not a mainstream girl. So I gave up on that and started keeping my eyes open for alternative websites and news sources. Over time and from talking with people and reading books, I began to get it. I still don't know what a superdelegate is but I do understand the controlled and planned-out politics of America. Guys, they [those who run this country] have a sick plan and most of us are clueless.

Let's remember what is going on in this country:

- we are in two unnecessary, drawn-out wars
- it is well-recognized our elections are rigged
- most Americans are dumb as fuck
- free thinkers and speakers are being persecuted
- we are being lied to by the government and media
- we are being side tracked by pills and celebrity media
- we are completely out of tune with nature and our animalistic nature (we are animals, we breathe)

Ok, it goes on and on. So, with John McCain being as old as he is, what are the chances of Sarah Palin becoming President? A woman who believes we are doing God's work in Iraq, yet doesn't give a hoot about the Earth God created. The world is ending soon, so we can destroy it, that makes sense? Or better yet, we can ruin and control millions of peoples lives and that's Gods plan?

And that is what I cannot relate too. Oppression. I say live and let live. Who am I to tell you what to do? I cannot relate to the need to have money and power and constantly need more, while forcing 99% of the worlds population to live "the way Americans do". What a lie. Plus, the American dream ended long ago. I forget this selfish way of living. I've had a few run-ins with people who get a thrill from deceiving and lying and it stung deeply. Now I avoid those people and I can point them out right away.

What I have written above scares some people. I've had my moments too. I've been visited by dark figures in dreams. And I do get angry when I get into it, like right now - ahem, but you know what?

This is all an incredibly big laugh to me. A mountain-top, echoing, ridiculous guffaw.

I love swimming in deep water. Religion and politics go deep. People take it so personally. People take is so seriously. To me it is fascinating. I love a heated discussion. The deep water keeps me cool. But people shy away in fear and discomfort and therefore do not act or grow.

I truly believe we are all here for a reason (although I wish some of us weren't) and mankind is oh-so-very-slowly on the road to betterment, however it is sad what we humans do. And it's sad that more of us can't see the bigger picture...yet.

I wrote 'sick plan' in the second paragraph of this posting and that's what most powerful people in this world are to me: sick in the head.

Now that we have some understanding, let's all have one big laugh - we'll feel better.

And Away We Go!

2008-09-11T07:18:00.003-04:00

It's done! I finished my first play. That is, until we come across issues in rehearsal (they start next week), but that's a given with any new play.

How much I have learned in this process! It is so awesome to call myself a writer.
I've been feeling bad about neglecting this blog. I haven't journaled or done any free writing in weeks. It's funny the phases one goes through. Sometimes a place within oneself is easy to access and other times it isn't.

Whoa, the life of an artist!

Just do it man, just do it. It gets easier.

But, despite this great achievement, I still have to get the show up. I have people retracting. My director, whom I trusted greatly, left the project last week. I don't attract flaky people. The wonderful people I'm involved with have just been taking turns having life crises. Very disappointing, but the show must go on!

I now fully understand that ancient statement! I have things riding on this, already put money down at the theater, have people attending from out of state.
No turning back now! :)

Contagious Inspiration

2008-09-04T02:05:00.003-04:00

That's the thing about inspiration - it's contagious -
from fellow artists, fellow friends, I give it, I receive it, and it keeps going in a cycle and picks up others along the way. People find it, it finds us...eventually. It can also be very slippery, but it hides in a similar place every time. You can know where to find it again. It's just easy to ignore.

No matter what, no matter how long it's been, it gets to a point when not doing what you really desire to do - is worse. It's worse than the fear of doing it and definitely worse than procrastinating. And suddenly you are doing it and gradually you get used to it and then, you are really enjoying it!

I met with my long time pal Gustavo (Goose, Gus) and we were talking about this. It's quite a joy to see other people accomplish something creative.

I've missed blogging. It's my practice, it's my outlet, it's my daily grind, a daily bread.

School is back in session folks, whether you like it or not
But, summer, oh summer is never over :)

ESN

2008-08-12T05:49:00.001-04:00

I might be taking an August hiatus from posting on my blog. To fill you in, I've just recovered from the madness of putting up a fundraiser. The weekend after the craziness I went backpacking overnight in Bear Mt. Park up the Hudson River and the four-hour hike in to the site ended up being a very challenging trek with many rock scrambles, most in a torrential downpour. The sun came out after and I had a great nap, but I wasn't rested for the following week, which brought on some swollen tonsils and a sore throat - could have just been allergies. Needless to say I was exhausted and did nothing for 4 days but sleep and hang out with my buddies.

So, now I'm good to go, doing final edits on my script and finished one of the eight books I'm in the middle of. I also need to practice my dang singing, exercise more and continue my new writing projects. So, for all these things, I may not be blogging as much this month.

So, you should definitely come see my play, Growing Season, when it's produced.
October 23, 24, 25 8pm
Actors Theater Workshop
145 W. 28th St. 3rd Fl.

This is Heaven

2008-07-30T04:23:00.005-04:00

I do believe now that this is heaven - where I am presently - and from now on, wherever I will be. And I think hell is that horrible time when you grow past infancy and suddenly realize the trauma of no longer being able to have anything you want, or when you are a teenager and despise your parents and would rather scowl because smiling seems too much effort or sometimes it's in your 20s when you are learning to live on your own and keep making the same miserable mistakes over and over again. That's hell.

It can be heaven at the same time; it's just the way you look at it, but it's also the way you develop it. This is more than 'the glass is half full - the glass is half empty.'

My theater group, Alacrity Players (alacrityplayers.blogspot.com) had its first benefit last night for the play I wrote, Growing Season. The evening met and surpassed my expectations and most happily I thoroughly enjoyed myself instead of stressing. We had a great turnout, amazing musicians, beautiful artwork, yummy snacks and dancing. A couple walked in off the street, paid our cover and stayed for the whole show. It turned out that they were from PA and had just dropped the kids off at summer camp and were stoked about having a week for themselves in the city! They came to Arlene's Grocery because it's a great place in the Lower East Side to hear new, live music. Now, they want to come to our production in October because they love independent, underground art!

The evening was amazing and I see some of the things I've asked for in my life coming to me. I am blessed with talented, supportive friends who have become my theater community. The energy we have, the attitude and love we have, carries us to bring in more similar people, to make in impact.

And that is what I have always wanted. When I was 17, preparing to graduate high school, I was in the basement standing near the stove, praying to God - pleading to God - and my destiny, that I would make a difference in this world. To act onstage, yes, but even more, to make a difference...SOMEHOW! Now, I see it happening. (Which means it started happening a while ago.) Now I see people impressed that Alacrity Players is putting up theater and gathering artists together to create beautiful music, beautiful artwork, joy, expression...

My life is beautiful. I have spectacular people in my life. Every moment becomes more and more joyful. It's overwhelming. Can it really keep getting better? That is all it can do. This is heaven for me.

Will You Help Me Honor Life?

2008-07-24T05:53:00.007-04:00

What? What? What?

What about the beach? Some people won't go to Brooklyn beaches cause they say it's too close to the city, which = dirty water. But, what about those barges that cruise by Long Beach, Long Island? I see plastic bottles floating in the water everywhere. Doesn't it all mix together?

Tell me! tell me! tell me!

Tell me that some people are seeing that their layoff was a blessing in disguise. That it's a chance to try something new. That it's a chance to grow more faith. That it's a chance for a new perspective. That it just may be a chance for happiness.

Why? Why? Why?

Why do we never take responsibility for our actions? Why are millions of people displaced because of our never-ending war? Why do we blame made up diseases? Why are so many of us dependent on being told what to do?

I chastise myself for my ideals.
I haven't seen a lot of the darkness in this world.
Sometimes I want to fix.
Sometimes I just want to go away and enjoy what's left while I can.
And most often my heart quietly bleeds -
Can't read too much news.

Then I remember:
We think our actions can't backfire in a monstrous way?
What a concept: that maybe the earth can take care of itself?!
Will our proud reign last forever?
How many years came before us?
How many years are yet to come?

I believe there is something much more powerful than us...
most of us are so weak.
Can we have respectable pride?
Will you help me honor life?

Love is won with a dash of trust, a smidge of fear, and a pinch of letting go. www.tut.com

2008-07-14T04:46:00.002-04:00

My friend Danny loaned me a book to read for inspiration while I was finishing my play, "This Craft of Verse," a lecture by Jorge Luis Borgess. In his beautiful, thoughtful voice he talks about many poets and recites pieces from many poems. It made me think of my favorite poem.

It is funny, that I first heard Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem, "The Lady of Shalott," in the "Anne of Green Gables" movie. Yes it is true. It was so beautiful it made me run to my Mother's bookshelf in her secretary to see if this poem lay in her book of British Literature from college.

It was there.

Part I

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road runs by
To many-towered Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow-veiled,
Slide the heavy barges trailed
By slow horses; and unhailed
The shallop flitteth silken-sailed
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to towered Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."

Read the rest:
http://www.online-literature.com/tennyson/720/

Alacrity Players!

2008-07-12T01:27:00.003-04:00

The first posting is up!

Please check out Alacrity Players' new blog at http://alacrityplayers.blogspot.com/ and share with your friends!

Alacrity Players, my theater group, is gearing up for a production of "Growing Season," a new play that will run in late October.

We have an amazing Fundraiser planned for July 29th at Arlene's Grocery in the Lower East Side. Please come out and support!

In the next week there will be many new postings, to keep you up to date, and to showcase our awesome and talented contributing artists. Stay tuned!

New Blog and some Absurdities to follow...

2008-07-10T00:16:00.010-04:00

Hello Friends,

Please check back in a few days because I am starting a new blog for my theater group, Alacrity Players, and will post the link here!!

We are gearing up for our next production in the fall. On the blog we will post up-to-date information about our progress, upcoming fundraisers and feature our wonderful and talented contributing artists.

The play is new, entitled "Growing Season," and deals with our relationship (and lack of) with the earth, as well as relationships amongst ourselves. It is an absurd comedy.

I'm starting to believe more and more that humor is the key to living well. It's the key to dealing, revealing, relating, and most importantly communicating. Life seems to go serious by default, so why not project awareness through humor? A serious matter doesn't need to be even more seriously hammered to garnish interest.

I also have an article to share with you that is dangerously absurd. The title of this posting will link you to it. It says that the Department of Homeland Security is very interested in using a newly invented shock safety bracelet. Here is a section of the article:

This bracelet would:

• Take the place of an airline boarding pass

• Contain personal information about the traveler

• Be able to monitor the whereabouts of each passenger and his/her luggage

• Shock the wearer on command, completely immobilizing him/her for several minutes

The Electronic ID Bracelet, as it’s referred to, would be worn by every traveler “until they disembark the flight at their destination.” Yes, you read that correctly. Every airline passenger would be tracked by a government-funded GPS, containing personal, private and confidential information, and would shock the customer...

Who the hell is thinking up this kind of stuff? I'm greatly impressed with the creativity and nerve possessed. (Nerve equaling: some brainwashed individuals given incentives of money and/or power.)

Unfortunately, this is a serious matter and only we can stop it. You want THIS government to be in charge of YOUR safety? I'll take care of myself, thanks. And maybe I'll take up hitchhiking. We need to trust each other more anyway, instead of being fearful - Get It?

2008-07-02T03:57:00.004-04:00

Hey, we're all alone. Some of us just notice it...my friend has been with her guy for seven years and she is more in love than ever. She says she still can hardly believe its real. I said, maybe that's why things are so good. You're happy in the middle, you run or you cling. Everyone has their way. I've been running. It's funny when you first become aware of yourself. Something you never noticed your whole life and it's all very clear suddenly. That happened to me. And I wonder, if I hadn't spent so much of my life alone, if I'd ever have discovered that about myself. Because after a while being alone doesn't feel lonely and you end up wanting to be by yourself when you are with someone. It's all you. Loneliness, company. It can become the same and then it's simply what you make it. So, having that love with another person...if it's the same as being alone and still being in that love...wow

Finally

2008-06-25T09:37:00.002-04:00

wOW, it's a gorgeous day. it's 9:37 am and I just looked out my window. The sky is pale blue and the skyscrapers of Manhattan are standing bright and beautiful. I love the morning. The city looks so distinct and welcoming. Coming back from home, Michigan, I'm missing the trees and quiet, so it's a blessing to find this beautiful moment. Working nights is starting to get tiring. I'm thinking about how I can get out of it. He he hehe. So, many options, let me think.

Summer in the City I

2008-06-14T14:57:00.005-04:00

Last night was a great night for roof top parties. It was too hot inside, perfect outside. I walked over to Dobbins St to meet my friend, DM. That's how his friends call him - Marcel and The Liz.

It was a long walk from my place. I walked under the overpass and then cut across the track and field. It was 1am. I didn't realize, on a warm summer night, how many people are just out because they can be. That must be one public place we aren't kicked out of at dark. There were pairs here and there, some sitting and talking, some dancing, a few guys smoking in the center, groups over by the hand ball courts. Then I cut across the park, through a baseball field where a large circle of people were laughing and talking. It was a sweet night. Tasty sweet, warm, and cool enough to wear jeans.

Two girls stopped me when I was close to Dobbins. They were lost. They were going to Dobbins too, but catastrophically, we were headed to different parties. It's okay, she would have annoyed me after a minute. She lived in the East Village. There is a rivalry between the East Village and Williamsburg. For those of you who don't know, they are across the East River from each other, one was just known for being cool long before the other.

So, I met DM and everyone. I didn't know who lived there. I did meet Oliver after a while. He was pretty drunk and looked like he'd been sprinkled on - more about the water later. I didn't recognize any other faces, the furniture was cleared and covered with a sheet, there was a long line in the bathroom, the deck out on the rooftop was awesome. It was packed out there. The party spread further out onto the roof and there: was a pool. A blow-up tiny adult swimming pool with a big blue light shining down from above. It was glamorous. It was daring to strip down and jump in. With that light you could ignore everyone else at the party and barely remember that every inch of your skin is being seen by Evvveryone. It was like an art installation. Man I live in a cool neighborhood. I mean, somehow Pink Floyd is passe and The Pointer Sisters are the s**t in this world. Friendly people, wacky people. There is a coolness here and I live smack in the middle of it. I didn't even get to mention the 80s theme that has been hovering for the past two years. Next time.

Anyway, I don't know how that happened - how I ended up living here and I've found if you only partake in 'the scene' for special appearances, it's bearable and entertaining. Next time I can also share the conversation with Jason I had about 'the scene.' It's wack.

Sexy Heat Wave

2008-06-10T05:19:00.004-04:00

Today, I did not spend any time outdoors until the evening because it was hot like a sauna. I walked across the Williamsburg Bridge with Lynann as the sun set. I'm showering twice a day now. I'll start sponge-bathing to save water. Later, when I took the train, there was this incredible smell on the platform. Someone dumped the nasty somewhere. Yes, it's disgusting to say, but it's true. It happens occasionally, as well, from the horses that pull carriages around midtown and Central Park. There are protests going on for the conditions those horses live in, by the way. (I've heard it's just 2nd and 3rd floor cement stables on the west side.)

Yesterday I was at Long Beach in Long Island. I got a lot of sun. The water was refreshing, but thick with seaweed; like a salad. My hair is really long and all those weeds really got caught up in my hair, like a mermaid. The beach was hot, I can't imagine how much worse it was in the city.

Is this global warming? How can we accurately say? I find that whole debate immensely amusing because some people are so certain, when in actuality, life is very unpredictable. I suppose we'll find out in due time.

I also love catching the spray from the opened fire hydrant on my corner.

Why

2008-06-05T08:08:00.003-04:00

I acknowledge but am not sorry for the thoughts that my writing expresses, if you find them extreme. I can't help it. It surprises me even, the intensity of my writing because it's certainly not my entire nature. But, I'm not going to restrain myself, or try to understand why I have interest in things I never wanted to be interested in. Now, some things I don't have control over. It's what I agreed to long ago and forgot. I see more and more clearly what I didn't exactly know but always wanted, will happen. That's why I am here. Here writing. And also to tell you to enjoy life.

--
Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving
safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in
broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly shouting,
"Wow! What a ride! Thank You, Lord!
-- Lisa Felten

Social Encounters

2008-06-05T00:52:00.007-04:00

I was giving my friend Tito a hard time for not planning to come to our 10-year H.S. reunion, but he has a good reason for not wanting to go. It's that same situation when you graduate school: where are you going and what do you want to do? Only, this time it will be: where have you been and what the heck are you doing with your life?

I don't think he's all right though. I think a lot of people aren't going to ask. And I also have ways to avoid those questions. I've acquired social tactics. Every week I'm sprinting from unwanted sexual advances, avoiding the gaze of panhandlers, ending awkward conversations at the bar and laughing in the face of b.s. in the workplace. I even weaseled my way into the proofreading circuit. Ha ha!

So, I'm not so worried. I like talking to people - most of the time. I'm looking forward to going. I can see why he doesn't want to though. "It's a small town, I'm sure I'll run into everyone anyway." So, he's making the 5 hour drive up there, but choosing to not attend the actual event. It's something about being on the sidelines too, not conforming or something, keeping your distance.

Actually maybe he knows. He does. I've been away so long...maybe I've forgotten what it's like.

This Sickness

2008-06-03T00:45:00.004-04:00

I imagine I surround myself with like-minded friends, but I sense there is a fairly broad awareness across America that much journalism, especially our general media, is biased.

And contradictory; the economy is seemingly diving downward with layoffs and cutbacks, while I've read we aren't in a recession.

And concerning our oil reserves, even articles that guerrillanews.com posts contradict each other. Peak Food And Peak Water says that Petroleum supplies are declining, while Ralph Nader insists we have plenty.

Who knows, right?
I'm sick of hearing about it all. I'm tired of greedy people wrapped up in this world we've created of skyscrapers, convinced an ever growing market is the most important thing in the world, and our foreign policy of treating people like Crap, etc., et., blah, blah, blah. It's all too superficial and sickening for my practical, free mind. There is so much ridiculousness in this world, I don't have the patience anymore and am pretty much ignoring most of it; oil companies and the upper class getting tax breaks, congress voting whether a country should be labeled "terrorist," Give me a Break!

Somehow this is all more important than the millions of people starving across the world and the planet that we've horrendously abused, which our media rarely talks about...

So, take care of yourself man! All the problems in our country are talked down, so maybe there is no problem, or maybe there is. Either way it doesn't flipping matter, just don't fool yourself into thinking the government cares about you. Learn how to take care of yourself and show your neighbor!

Democracy is dead and I think our country is too big.

I want local government to keep the say. I wanna sit in a circle until we all agree, the way Africans have. Popular vote is not consensus.

Soggy Brain Noodles

2008-05-28T04:24:00.003-04:00

Ok. My brain is a mash of confusion right now, so don't mind me. I just can't bear to let another day go by without blogging.

Why is my brain a mash of confusion? Many reasons, my friend, many reasons...
Let's start with a couple:

Recently, I was conversing with my co-worker about how you have to be crazy to live in this city. Great! I'm living in a city of 8 million crazy people. Listen, between the art, culture, and opportunities to meet other crazy amazing people here, what other place compares? There isn't another place and you know it. It's the center of the world here. New Yorkers are proud of that. BUT, do you really want to be in the center? Keep your answers to yourself. I don't want them influencing my decision making.

So, I think about living other places but that means I would have to actually move. And then would I miss this wacky place like crazy? Yes! NO. SEE! How to know, how to know? Chances to take.

Also, this play I'm writing is probably driving me crazy. I am procrastinating like tomorrow is next decade. I'll just keep writing and writing and eventually I'll get to my play. That's what I say. Well sure, eventually.

Why else am I confused?
Because (and this is the kicker) things happen in life and you react or you don't. You deal or you don't. And, I'm dealing with stuff and I wonder sometimes if there is ever a way to express how deep something is truly affecting you. Or to ever know how much....or maybe that's not necessary. Because at the same time, it's nothing. It's life. Things happen. So, I'm confused and feeling more odd and awkward than I have in a long time.

(I'm just shrugging my shoulders now)
Perhaps I should just go back to the woods, although that's where I was this weekend when I started feeling really strange.

At least I'm not a crazy person working 60 hours weeks.
I'd much rather be a crazy artist.

Actually it's the way the planets are aligned right now.

Joking

EsN

Rounded vowels & Bluebirds in the Blue Skye

2008-05-20T03:26:00.007-04:00

Iowa. That's where I was this past weekend. Small towns don't seem to change much throughout the Midwest. An outsider is an outsider if you've been gone long enough. Although everyone waves at you as they drive by in their cars. No, excuse the sarcasm, please, I had a great time. It's green Everywhere, beautiful birds, no honking, no excessive amounts of concrete, loved seeing my family. My cousins friends grilled me though. It came out of the blue - point blank: "What's your deal?" Wowsers. I said I grew up on a farm and my dad is from a nearby town and the ice was broken. I will not forget the response, "Ohhh, okay..."

I'm such a "chameleon" it frightens me sometimes. 12 hours after I got there I was already rounding all my vowels and had lost my New York assertiveness. Well, being from the Midwest myself I guess it's not too hard to shed the NY toughness. This one kid didn't even believe I was from NY, it was very amusing. He seemed to Know - he lived here in NY until he was 7. He was trying to get someone to dance with him, but none of the ladies would. I wouldn't either.

And on a side note: it's surprising me how much I'm enjoying writing this play. It's a lot of work. Rephrase: it's a lot of work to write a Good play. But, I am incredibly fortunate and grateful that I have a theater community and friends who give me honest feedback. Or, at least they better be. So, Thank You for that.

Pillows & funny things

2008-05-15T03:25:00.003-04:00

Now that I've presented my first playscript to my peers, a lot tension has released and I'm sleeping like a baby. Thank God! I love sleep and am always troubled just a little when it's not a most satisfactory quality. I don't believe I will sleep when I'm dead. I want to do it now, for it's a human quality. However, since I have this wacky schedule and work nights, there are times when I stay awake for very long periods of time. Like, last week, when I didn't sleep for 36 hours. I was a little wired. I didn't really tell normal people (those that work during the day) because they'd dismiss me very quickly as incapable of normal activity because of sleep-deprivation. But, on the contrary, at that point, anything is possible. Staying up for another day. Sowing batman wings. The possibilities are endless because your common sense is fried and your imagination and insane happiness is flying wild. I'm lucky. I live on little. How I manage to live so well in this city, working as little as I do, inspires me. Anything is possible. I make it happen. I don't have any pillows. I have three friends coming to visit me in 2 weeks and I don't have any pillows for them. It's the one box I lost when I moved back in. That and hangers. Hangers are annoying. Always falling, always getting stuck to each other. But, I don't like pillows anymore either, that's why I haven't bought them. But, I think I should. Most people like to sleep with them and get annoyed and unhappy when one isn't available. Isn't that true? What would you do if you went to bed tonight and all your pillows were missing? You'd be mad wouldn't you? And wondering how the heck you'll fall asleep and be comfortable. Pillows. It's one of those things we never think about, but would probably steal for.

2008-05-09T20:56:00.002-04:00

There is a brick building on the corner with wrought iron gated windows, in white. And on one window is a painting of two little dressed piglets, one boy and one girl with pigtails, standing in a skillet of frying sausages, singing: "I am hot, I am sweet. Buy us both, we're a treat!" It is one Italian deli that could never stay open in this neighborhood. And it's the funniest painting. I could never have painted that because I would have been laughing hysterically the entire time. MOW!

I've been writing my play so intensely that I haven't been writing anything else. I'm stressed and tired and tired of that too. I'm having a table read tomorrow evening for feedback. That I'm looking forward to. One day I look at it and it seems pretty good, the next day I look at it and it seems horrible. Tomorrow I'll know.
Peace Out V

In Case You Never Knew...

2008-04-24T06:30:00.003-04:00

Traveling with a tent and backpack for two months is a great way to get educated in the subject of materialism and other related issues such as: being weighed down by too much crap and looking in the mirror too often.

Crap that weighs you down can range from high-heeled shoes to a second T-shirt to a coveted embroidered jean jacket made by a sister. Food doesn't count unfortunately because it does get really heavy, but when great times are being had with only what is needed in view, it's surprising how quickly one forgets that closet full of clothes back home.

When the mirror is used less one finds the face to be less and less appealing, which encourages one to cease detouring from daily activities to the mirror and in turn helps waste less time. It also keeps the mind on matters that are incredibly much more important than ones looks. And after a while a stupid feeling arrives when one can't resist trotting over to check out the beautiful slope of a cheekbone.

In case you never knew...

Bright Sun

2008-04-23T05:03:00.005-04:00

I'm happy to hear that New York Sun Works nysunworks.org is developing projects to grow veggies on rooftops to feed the city. I thought of this myself a while back, unfortunately I don't have rooftop access at my place. But, think if every building's roof was full of little gardens and how that would impact our air quality here, not to mention our health and way of life? Just last week, when we had our first day of high 70 degree weather, I could smell the nasty stuff through the open window. It doesn't help I live near the highway but even the Manhattan skyline was yellow.

I'm thinking about our way of life again...Being serious about growing rooftop gardens runs contrary to typical New York life. Any New Yorker will go buy a tossed salad at Cosi, but grow one? It means either; gardening will become an in-demand occupation, or we'll have to learn to spend an hour a day planting, weeding, and maintaining our food.

I found out about this from an article in the Metro (April 22) which also says:

...developing rooftop projects with public schools and a major U.S. supermarket chain,...

so once again all our work may be done for us, but what IF we had to take time to grow our food?

Food is important. Skinny is still in, but at some point any broad is going to get cranky if she can't get something in her tummy. Growing food on rooftops would extremely improve our air quality, our food quality, encourage community growth, increase awareness of the cycle of life and awareness in general. Awareness of how unhealthy many New Yorkers are (because of 12 hour work days, poor food, lack of exercise and sun) AND awareness of how fickle food production can be when influenced by weather, sun, rain, insects, soil quality and lack thereof, etc. Maybe it would bring many of the starving nations of the world in better perspective. There are already food shortages happening all over the world. Everyone needs to know how to grow their own food. And since we can (no drought), we should.

We are way too out of tune with the Earth. New York is already pushing for green, but this would make it literally green and somehow it seems like a practical fantasy. I hope it catches on.

I Want the Beach

2008-04-17T06:37:00.001-04:00

It's still 6 weeks until the beach opens.
Way too long! I want to go NOW!

Awakening Before Nightfall (aka Not Being Fully Plugged In, and/or Being a Space Cadet)

2008-04-16T02:16:00.007-04:00

I don't know where I am
I'm heading to some distant universe
my unknown thoughts are somewhere there with me
my breathing is around me and floating off and
seemingly skipping me altogether

I hang loose
feel I'm in this realm of soft horizontal places
blurred thoughts, ideas, intentions,
all no matter

there are no colors, just lifting and dispersing.
Around
no black, no white
no bore, no fight
no resistance as I sit on this bench
and suddenly have a grounding thought

all is still
loose
hanging
thinking now with a little intention
need my breath
I come down to earth
I touch and lift, slowly
settle
firm
I awaken some more
all is as it should be.
All is most excellent.

It's a different life, this working at night
but I go with it -
As Stephanie says, "Sometimes you're not fully plugged in."

Last Night...

2008-04-14T00:56:00.005-04:00

I had a strange night last night. I had a great time, but, yeah - here it is: I hate it when people ask me about my art, ask me what I'm up to, and I tell them, and suddenly the conversation goes awkward. Last night it happened with both an IT guy and an experimental theater actress, no less. Besides who asks those questions anyways? Really. It just makes for awkward conversation. Although, there is a tactful way to do it. I'm fine where I'm at. They don't have to make me feel okay! Ah well. So, I also did alot of people watching last night and that was lots of fun. I was crammed into this tiny basement on Ludlow (It's called the Cakeshop and they really do serve cake upstairs) and this band Des Roar was playing (they're good stuff Des Roar myspace page) It's really kind of funny because the stage is at the far end of the basement and the floor slopes all the way down to it. You've got 4 people jamming out on a tiny stage to their So Cal beat, their heads practically hitting the ceiling and people packed around the stage starting literally 3 feet away from them and going past the bar and to the back of the room to the bathrooms. Well drinks are free in plastic cups, people are standing, dancing when they have room, laughing, being all serious, and buttheads are pushing themselves through the crowd. I was thinking about my mother because the place is a horrible fire trap. Sometimes you've gotta take a chance and experience the Lower East Side music scene. I was also thinking about all the basements there are downtown. Last night was especially busy in the city, people were everywhere and everyone was dressed up. All those basements...it makes you think about all the stuff that can happen at night in the city, in the basement.

2008-04-13T03:53:00.003-04:00

Jeff Buckley is haunting me. His music is sophisticated. His voice goes. And his music goes even more. He pushes it, always. He puts himself out there...it's just something that you have to listen to with his lyrics and it's all so much more musically...i saw a band tonight that was good. They were good. But, at a point there is more. And that more is what Jeff explores. And it makes me stop. and listen.

2008-04-09T06:34:00.002-04:00

I love being happy,
it makes me bouncy and high.
I appreciate being sad,
for it slows me down and helps me see what's what.
And anger, ooh, that's a excellent thing to fuel action in the right direction.
What i hate is being complacent.
In the long haul, I want to live,
I don't want to sit and receive.
to me Complacency is ignoring, pretending,
Living in a fantasy world, not the real world.
People have said that that is a fault...

And they say NYC is so big...

2008-04-09T05:06:00.005-04:00

In this city, it is much more likely than one would think to run into a complete stranger, twice, in less then a week, although, the first time you are not really running into them, and the second time they are no longer a stranger...and I don't know the stats on that.

BUT, I met Georgiana for rehearsal last Thursday at Shetler Studios and while we were waiting to start, two guys approached us and asked if we had a few minutes and would audition for a commercial with them. This is a strange industry; you never know what you will find. This was some Japanese thing and obviously ill-planned because nobody was around to audition and we had to pretend to be friends with these guys so the other people wouldn't look bad for their boss. (We were auditioning WITH the guys, others were running the audition.)

So, we did that, did them a favor and Tonight, I was killing time at Starbucks before work and I saw one of the guys, only I wasn't convinced it was him (which is funny cause I'm usually excellent with faces, bad with names) but, more likely, I hesitated to say anything because he was with a girl. However, it was him because as he passed by he stopped and said hi. He had his card with him this time.

How cool. I looked him up. He's doing his thing; has a website, acting in film, etc.

Was I not supposed to meet this guy? Duh. Someone to bounce ideas off of, go to shows with, maybe we'll even work on projects. It's great.
I don't need to run into him a third time.
No, I'll plan for it.

p.s. This happens to me all the time, usually people I know to begin with. It's fun.

Beacon, NY

2008-04-08T05:10:00.011-04:00

Eric, Tatiana, Tarn and Me, (Kevin's taking the pic) hiking on Sunday in Beacon, NY. We took the metro-north along the Hudson River. This was my third trip up the valley and every time it seems to be cloudy. What can I say, it's an odd thing. You get the fresh air by leaving the city, but it's almost too quiet. I really miss the sun on days like this. The birds keep to themselves, we didn't hear any animals. It was too early for any spring color. But, we have plans to keep exploring north of the city. This area of NY is covered with trails and campgrounds and they're so easy to reach from the city. It's a fantastic aspect of NY to take advantage of, yet so easy to dismiss. Fortunately, we have a long warm season here.

2008-04-05T12:04:00.002-04:00

I wanted to post this last night, but I couldn't get online.

My friend T is going to Australia for two weeks with her dad. Yeah, how fun.

I asked her to bring something back for me. "What," she asked?

"A picture of the beach," I said, as I was staring out my window at the elevated BQE (Brooklyn Queens Expressway). It's right in my line of vision. I forgot that Manhattan's skyline was behind it...

It was a moment.

2008-04-03T02:50:00.002-04:00

My thoughts are going strong and wide, therefore, a little scattered. I'm working on focusing and bringing to you more specific topics, more frequently. I was even thinking about doing the Suzan-Lori Parks thing and publishing a post every day, but I'd start out just doing it for this month of April. We'll see how it goes. I'm not 100% committed, yet I am on a roll. It could happen.

On a (long) side note, the Metro daily paper in NYC yesterday had many interesting articles. (Their articles are always so tiny, it doesn't even seem right to call it an article. They're more like a summary.) I found more curious news than usual it seemed. It included:

the proposed traffic fee for cars entering Manhattan during business hours, what effects will arise?...,
spray painted swastikas were found on a Jewish-owned building in my own neighborhood, Williamsburg, "who did it, why, what is their deal, who are these people specifically," are my thoughts...who they are socially interests me,
New Jersey might close 1/5 of its state parks and 80 workers would be laid off. And at the bottom it said, "reduce offseason hours at all 42 sites." My thoughts wander when I hear this..."they are closing parks...gating them off even? So, people can't go on land that is public...that's kinds of asinine...what if we just went anyway...geez."
prices of high-end condos are up in Manhattan 45.7%, but sales are down 34.4%, "uh, wow."
Mayor Bloomberg is calling April, MillionTreesNYC Month, wanting 1 million new trees planted, yet 20 acres of dense forest in Queens is supposed to be razed for fake fields. 'Trees...have no legal protections.' That's hilarious. What man-made bureaucratic senselessness. (Sorry for my snotty vocabulary, it's fun.) And the silliest article of all which appeared on the front page:
A comparison of Hilary and Rocky Balboa brought on by her statement,
Let me tell you something, when it comes to finishing a fight, Rocky and I have a lot in common...I never quit. I never give up. And neither do the American people.

Well, there's lots more. I am bored with this. Read your newspaper.

2008-04-02T05:04:00.011-04:00

Careful now.

I don't wanna leave my feet out of other peoples shoes, but man, why do some folks let life get so miserable?

I am back proofreading at my old job. The year before I traveled to New Zealand I was working full time +. Now I'm working 3 days a week. Before I was working daytime, now I'm working midnights.

3 weeks ago I stayed late to help out, meaning I finished my shift at 11:30am instead of my normal 8am. Yeah....So, my manager comes in around 9:30, which is SOOO early for him, and within 10 minutes I could feel the tension in the air raise several levels. He looked at me blankly and said, "Who are you?" (That's his sense of humor.) Mmmm, good to see you too, Chris.

In this office, I see people fighting over how to style a document when their root concern is, who has the power. I see people overworked, while I see others sleeping/playing computer games. And most of all, I see unhappy, tired people pretending they aren't. They say to me, "OH, I wish I could do that."

That's in my office. There are a good 20 other offices on this block, all of which are much bigger than mine. That's one block in all of Manhattan. You getting the picture?

There are so many people that are just goinggoinggoing. All the time. Of course that is what NY is known for. The reality of it is intense. Waking up at 6am. Working 8-12 hours. Going out for dinner, going to a show. Doing it all over again. Plus the commute, the laundry, the drycleaning, going to the doctor, car maintenance, grocery shopping, cleaning, working out, paying bills, um traffic? Crap. Oh you have kids? Reading them a bedtime story....Not to mention the stress put on by employers, relationships, bills, themselves, a fucked up childhood, etc.

What satisfaction does a person experience when she wins and a document's headings become bold instead of italicized, when she could lead a children's camp in Jamaica, council a homeless person, learn how to cook a new dish, or simply sit down and actually think about what would truly, deeply satisfy her? Careful, it might make you cry.

I look at this city now, after being gone, and every little thing is interesting because it's my life. (I didn't have this outlook before I traveled to New Zealand) Ha ha, I appreciate the little secondhand shops, rows of different colored houses, dog walkers, the skyline, crooked sidewalks, all the little gardens when you finally pay attention, people watching, graffiti, the magnificent bridges that cross the East River, paint peeling off brick walls...because...I can. That's my priority. This place is disgusting and amazing at the same time. In this massive island of massive stress, pollution, buildings and stuff you can find the seconds ticking ever so slowly because, no, it's no New Zealand, but it's not always all that different. Believe me, birds chirp, the breeze tickles your cheek, silence comes, then it's interrupted by a fire truck...(Sometimes I am bombarded with too many sounds.) As much as I love the country, I'm supposed to be here...it's an odd thing...

A stoop is a great place to close your eyes, soak in the sun, learn the Brooklyn accent, meet your neighbor, form your opinions on current events...

2008-04-01T00:17:00.002-04:00

On this rainy day in NY, I am finally back. Sorry about that. I had doubts about the way I was writing.

It boggles me that I can write about myself and people find it interesting. However, I am back to reading Hunter S. Thompson and I'm galloping through Henry Miller's, "Tropic of Cancer" (I honestly don't care for it much so far) and it occurred to me that these men are writing about themselves. Talking about themselves and current events; perhaps that gets readers to think as well. Well, I know it does. Writing about yourself with a twist. Amazing.

I'm experiencing new freedoms. I'm running on ecstasy these days. Sleep is good. It's not like vacation. It's like: having 4 days every week when you don't have to work, you don't really have to do anything that you don't want to do and you've got the whole city at your fingertips, wonderful companionship, sun one day, rain the next, trains that will carry you out to hiking trails, cafes in which to sit and create, concerts to inspire you, bridges to traverse...

I'll be back soon.

What are you doing?

2008-03-10T19:56:00.005-04:00

If you are doing what you love:

Has this passion you have changed over the years?
Or, have you had to change over the years to keep your passion alive?
Hmm, this is starting to sound like a relationship...

I'm talking about suddenly finding that it's time to rediscover why you love what you love. Maybe it needs to change a little. Or...maybe you need to change. Either way, it's time to rethink why and how.

For me, pursuing acting was getting to be a drag. It saddens me when actors 'give up.' I think it's the biggest mistake made. It's better to alter. We all need a place to create. It's not good to deny ourselves that. Either way, it's your mindset.

In New York City you have every possibility at your fingertips. You can get spread thin so very quickly. I went away for 3 months, forgot all my monologues, focused on writing and, subsequently, refreshed my entire being.

Don't get so wrapped up in life to think you can't do that yourself because usually it's impossible to realize how wound up you really are.

And then you come back and see it's a state you most desperately don't want to return to...

In-Your-Face First Monday Morning Thoughts

2008-03-10T11:50:00.003-04:00

Sometimes the bad days don't end?
For me they do.

enough is enough
Blow the torch, bite your nails,
see it all end in a flash.
Row your boat, shoot your gun
We're here and gone
Do your best to enjoy it

2008-03-02T14:12:00.003-05:00

compare the swishing and low engine grumbling of cars passing by to the roaring and crashing of the ocean down by the shore.

that's what I did last night.
and I had quiet, calm
It's good to be home.

taking it upon yourself to make the normal different
every day is a traveling day

Elephant Rocks, New Zealand

2008-02-27T14:35:00.000-05:00

More on elephants

2008-02-27T13:41:00.004-05:00

I've also always loved elephants. When I was 11 my aunt Sue took me to the San Diego zoo and I didn't want to leave the elephants.

I'm reading "The White Rhino Hotel" right now, by Bartle Bull. I snatched it from an old bookshelf at a campground in New Zealand. It's about love and adventure in Africa after The Great War, when the British and Germans are colonizing and overrunning the land.

I just read a part where some men go on an elephant hunt. They sit and observe 3 bulls challenge each other and butt heads. But, the next day when the largest elephant is shot in the lungs, the smaller bulls help it up the bank of the river to escape. An hour later, the hunters catch up and find the two smaller bulls standing on either side of the wounded, holding him up.

Their courage and protection warmed my heart.