the starbucks appeal

i've often wondered what is the appeal of starbucks cafes, and i think i am beginning to get an idea why. i don't visit starbucks often. i don't know the politics of the 'situation,' and i think there are many from the mumblings about towns that i have heard. i'm not a coffee drinker, and for me their tea is tasteless. that said, no one can deny they are successful.

yesterday while waiting to meet s in front of starbucks, simply a meeting place, it being cold, i snuck inside to get warm, and thought why not have a nice warm cup of tea while at it. the christmas carols were piping through the sound system filling the cafe with christmas spirit. the lines were long with groups of families and friends getting their tonic of choice, from little boys getting hot chocolate with swirls and swirls of whip cream, to mom's grande mocha something or other.

i sat down with my green tea chai latte (with soy)... it does get pleasingly complicated doesn't it? ... and waited for s. taking off my jacket, pleased at the warm woolen sweater i had chosen for this chilly day, i wrapped my paws around my warm beverage. swarms of folks made their way in with the lines almost out the door. i wondered what is the appeal. less expensive and probably better coffee can be had elsewhere.

while i sat there getting toasty, singing along to the christmas carols quietly and looking forward to chatting with my friend, it dawned on me. starbucks isn't just a cup of coffee, it's an experience. a place where you meet with friends and family and indulge yourself in sinful pleasures like chocolate and whip cream and coffee and tea done up in a way grandma never has. not that it is better, it's just different...

little girl prayers

my mom is a 'single mom.' when we were kids she worked nights, getting home around 11pm. she's retired now and i hope she is enjoying her retirement. she worked in a bank. my friends used to tease me, saying what kind of bank is open until all times of the night? i tried to explain in my little girl 'business lingo' that she worked in the part of the bank that clears checks. when people are doing their banking during the day, someone or someones have to process the bank stuff over night. my mom was the manager of this division, and to give her credit 'her employees' loved her. she was able to get the job done with a helpful and kind demeanor.

thing is, she had to return home late at night, riding the subway and walking through new york streets alone. we had to be in bed before she returned home; trained in how to prepare for school the next day, as well as be in bed by 9pm. before going to bed i used to pray and in my prayers i asked God to walk with mom and help her to get home safe. she always did.

when folks ask me if i believe in God, i'm hesitant to answer. i believe, but i'm not sure what they mean by God. i am almost always sure that we are talking about very different ways of believing. Einstein, when asked if he believes in God, answered 'depends on what you mean by God.' but that's a discussion for another time and place... but i love love love the idea of a God that listens to the prayers of little girls.

'dear God, i need help to get my hair washed and get out of my pajamas.'

'big girl prayers!' some days ago i wrote that i was blue, some days later i wrote that i went out in my pj's, there is a connection, though i had not realised it. Carl Jung shared 'she does not become enlightened by an imaginary figure of light, but by making the darkness conscious.' if we can become aware of that which makes us blue, then maybe we can be on our way again...

during one of those days, through the tears, i sat and began to count on my fingers just what was 'going right,' as opposed to focusing on what seemed to be going wrong. the blues began to lift, my little stomach bug flew away, and i just began to feel better. i read this morning that in times of despair we tend to close ourselves off. and the thing is, if we feel small, then do little small concrete and affirmative things; laundry, cleaning, writing... 'i am at the page and it's calming me. i reach for words and my reaching is a tiny prayer. God can find me here...

they say don't give up 5 minutes before the miracle...

listening this morning to the sweet voice of carla bruni... http://www.carlabruni.com/

having a nice cup of tea; as i like to start my day. writing. planning to take the little journey to visit my sister and family for thanksgiving dinner. putting up christmas lights, i know it's a bit early but i love them so, why wait. yesterday while walking by the waterfront i thought if i can walk, and i have food and a space to call home, family and friends are feeling pretty good, then things aren't as bad as i thought. still sometimes we do get down and we try to find our way back up. my little girl prayers still work. things are good again.

art 101

i asked the lady who works in the monkdogz urban art gallery what moves a buyer to buy a piece of art? how does it work? i've always wanted to know. she explained in that lovely british lilt that always gets me, that people buy art for all kinds of reasons. and she encouraged me not to be afraid of the 'gallerinas,' it's all an act! when i expressed my fear for entering galleries, they seem so forbidding, except for some seemingly secret club that i can't even begin to talk about because i wouldn't know what i would be saying. 'rest assured, artists want their work to be looked upon.' i believe her.

encouraged and more courageous, h & i wandered down to the sundaram tagore gallery and there my heart was captured by the creations of sohan qadri, painter, poet and yogi born in india. i haven't just sat down to spill out words on this particular post. something has been brewing inside me for quite sometime now, as i have tried to connect my ignorance of how art works and my desire to understand. and maybe i have found something that may begin to address my ponderings. for me, like many things, it is a feeling. the work of this artist hits me in the heart. can't say it's a 'sweet thing,' but i can say it is a feeling. i feel something, something rich and daring which i need, especially in a time and place where it is easier to go through the motions and avoid what the heart has to share.

lots of luscious words have been shared in critique of this artist's work. robert thurman, buddhist scholar and father of miss uma, describes his dots and grooves & scratches as lustrous bubbles of energy, others have said the rich reds, silk blues and fire ball oranges engages one in a spiritual and aesthetic dialogue. i think what i like about this artist is much in tune with these sentiments, in the sense that the movement created within invites a questioning about being moved. i ask myself by what, how and why? being touched in way...

tell me a story...

pbs, channel 13 here in new york is my favorite televsion station. now i know it is totally uncool to be talking about television these days and the evils in connection, but i do indeed love pbs for its educational and cultural programs. oh! and the delicious british mysteries. a nice cup of tea and a british mystery; i'm undone. ...another cool thing about pbs, probably the coolest, is that it's where i began to learn to read while watching sesame street as a wee one. i remember when my mom went to take my brother to kindergarden, my little sister not yet born, i sat alone and watched sesame street, learning my abc's and piecing together letters and sounds to form words... b + ook ... book! by the time it was my turn to go to kindergarden 'the powers that be' moved me to first grade directly. they said that i had already learned all that they would teach me in kindergarden, that is to begin to read. ...been there done that! but what about the nap time?! i still feel a certain longing for never having the privilege of nap time in kindergarden. i think i'm still trying to fill that void. como se dice 'siesta' en ingles?

whew! just a long (and i hope interesting) way of getting to these two lovely prima princesses. i learned of them last night during a program on pbs (not an advertisement for the station, just giving them their 'props!'). the sister ballerinas immigrated from Cuba and have carved out beautiful illustrious careers in boston and san francisco in their respective premier ballet companies. for me, it is an inspiring historia of the intense work, dedication and courage they have in carving out an interesting and inspiring career. ...the laws are a bit confusing for me as to when and if cuban-americans are able to return to their homeland. can't imagine what it must be like not to be able to go home. m, a friend from bulgaria lived in cuba for 7 years. people in madrid always wondered why she spoke spanish with a cuban accent. back here in the u.s while she was doing post doctorate work, it was amazing to watch the wonder in a cuban person's eyes as they probed her about their homeland. as many details as she could remember please, they wanted to know. if she could be their memory for them, for they were unable to go home again.

... learning to read, sesame street, cuban prima ballerinas ...if you tell me your story, i'll tell you mine...

lars and the real girl

there seems to be absolutely no reason why this film should make any sense or be interesting to anyone with half a brain, but it does and it is! this movie is about a shy and introverted guy who chooses a life size doll as a companion. after everyone tries to come to grips with the idea that this situation is absolutely nuts, they all try to find a way to support mr. shy and introverted with his 'issues.' the results are tender in a day and age when we can all use a little sweetness...

jammies!

i snuck outside with my pajamas underneath my coat. there's something fun about sneaking and doing something that no one else knows about... creep creep...

monsieur mailer

Norman Mailer died yesterday. may he rest in peace. i last saw him while he was being interviewed by Charlie Rose on pbs. he was talking about his most recent book at that time. it was earlier this year. Norman and Charlie then began to talk about his next project, and i remember being struck by Mailer saying that he hopes he lives long enough to finish it. if we are fortunate enough to make it to age 84, i imagine one wonders just how much time remains ... really. ...a long and fruitful life. may we all be blessed in our own ways.

been blue...

...been a little sad lately and it's been incredibly difficult to write. after some time passed i realised that i was 'blocked.' i guess writer's block is not a cliche. i tried a few things to try to get the juices running, but to no avail. and then on top of it i managed to get a kind of stomach bug, so i haven't been feeling well in general. i'm wondering if the sadness and stress has bought on sickness. i wouldn't be surprised, mind and body connection, you know? i tried to will myself better, but then i wondered if that was bringing on even more stress. not allowing myself to be. so i thought better of it, and gave in if you will. i just thought that i would let go...

... and i slept, and dreamed, and had tea, and listened to lovely music and i am reading novels and magazines, just spoiling myself really and i think it is helping. i feel like i'm starting to feel better, at least my little stomach bug seems to be flying away.