other folks' business

late last night jude law stopped by the set of the jimmy fallon show. they talked about law's brilliant portrayal of hamlet on broadway, and too about how long the show is. i suppose it's an issue, torture for some and heaven for others. the later for me. i mentioned i loved it. fallon kidding around in his british accent mentioned a real life time law called him up and invited him over. he said they were going to have some drinks and read poetry. fallon said he thought law was joking about the poetry. but when he arrived folks were actually sitting around reciting poetry.

why i feel like that's a party i would have liked to have been at; wine and poetry... right up my alley. my cup of tea. ahhh.... i suppose the thing is to get out of the business of the lives of celebrities and create my own parties...

while choosing a photo for this post i ran across the gossip about law having fathered a child during a one or two night stand. the baby is here and is called sophia. apparently as of yet law has yet to claim the baby as his own. hmmm, a bit messy...

other folks' business...

poetic autumn days

autumn.

things are cooling off.

expecting colourful leaves...

halloween is nigh.

before you know it christmas,

and i'll get all sentimental like i usually do.

but there's time

we'll take it slow

and enjoy today

and love what we love

and laugh when we can

and smile if we can't laugh

or simply be as well as we can be

which is enough

trust me

to be or not to be

' oh i can't stand her!'

'i don't like her either, i can't believe we have her again.'

these were the frustrated voices i heard about our new to me english literature teacher. i was new to the school so i had yet to learn the reputation of the teachers. she's wierd was the biggest complaint. the class was introduction to shakespeare and i was excited, and even more so because if she was wierd i was intrigued. but i did not let on, i'd be banished from the group.

we walked into class on this, the first day of school and there she was sitting crossed legged on top of her desk in front of the class room. i remember to this day her long loosed, flowing down her back hair, velvet purple pants and cowboy boots. she just sat there and watched as we took our seats. the chattering stopped as she sat there and waited for us to be quiet. she slid off the top of her desk and began to walk around the room while handing out fresh copies of the book we would begin with. shakespeare's macbeth. my first shakespeare reading. she asked us to open up to the very first page. i was mesmerised, and this meant i had to take my eyes off her.

before she even introduced herself she read aloud the opening lines of shakespeare... she had me!

i did not know the word back then in high school, but it turns out she was a hippie. more and more i understood this as she sauntered into class with her suede jackets with loose tassels and her multicolored pants. i loved her, i mean really. and to this day i still do. she was the one who introduced me to my love of literature and reading. and just as importantly she not only was an excellent teacher, she was kind and encouraging in my academic endeavors throughout high school. i am thankful to her and for her.

this past weekend i had the privilege to sit just a few feet away from the broadway stage that jude law did his hamlet on. he was gorgeous and magnificent. hamlet has come to nyc only for


12 weeks after having made it's tour in various parts of europe. if it comes your way, be sure to see it if you like shakespeare. i loved it! some of the audience thought it was too long, they said so while we piled out of the theatre afterwards. obviously they did not have my english lit teacher, mrs. herman, introduce shakespeare to them as she disguised her voice into a witch voice while reading the witch's part in macbeth. i was always happy to volunteer to be macbeth himself. i sat there the whole time in heaven as i watched jude law do that thing he does when he's spot on in his performance of a character.

i think that i thought that i was hiding my love of mrs. herman back then and her teaching abilities so that the other kids would not think that i was wierd too. but now that i think of it, i probably was only kidding myself. i was always in one of her classes, always in her office and always saying something that mrs. herman said. i hope she knew how much i loved her. her efforts still touch my life in the most wonderful way...

cute

the weekend is here dear reader! i hope that these early autumn, still hanging on to summer days are cool and warm all at the same time. is that possible? i've been down memory lane a bit this week, and i am thinking of things from another time in general. i think i do this anyway from time to time missing cute fashion, fine music, rituals of old. love it!

and i suppose there comes a time to dip into the modern day happenings as well. every age has it's positives too. have you heard of these young ladies. i think they are the cutest. they are the wonder girls and they have a retro look and musicality about them. love them...

have a peek at the video (give it a minute to get past the initial story) here... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BA7fdSkp8ds

and do have a wonderful weekend!!

sending kisses!

p.s. sorry about the 'toilet guy' they could have skipped that whole part for me, but the part where the ladies are singing their song is too cute...

sans kindness

i mentioned to a friend today that i used to have a crush on a guy sometime in my past. i said to her that he was good looking, smart, interesting and funny. it came to me later on while thinking of our conversation that i did not say he was kind. kind and considerate are a must, no? otherwise all bets are off...

fancy that

normally i don't wear make-up and for the most part i don't style my hair. truth be told, i'm lazy about these things. and it's a funny thing because i really love pretty things. i buy pretty dresses, and perfumes. i have a love of reading and books, which i find pleasure in that pretties up my mind. interior design and lovely home furnishings are another of my loves. but i have to say taking the time to put on make-up and style my hair escapes me. i think also it has to do with the million other things i would rather be doing.

but taking the time to pretty ourselves up is a gift we can give to ourselves. and it does not have to be over done. today i took the time to style my hair and put on a tiny bit of make-up. i have always liked the way the girls pencil in eyeliner bringing out the shape and brightness of their eyes. these are just playful ways to experience our beauty.

perhaps my last post of remembering a time when time was taken to pretty ourselves up lead me to thinking about these things. i had fun today with my hair done up in a sixties type do, soft smoky eye make-up, and a bit of pink gloss on my lips. just a girly sweet kind of fun that i hope to try again soon.

now here in my pjs, face cleansed and moisterized, relaxing and thinking about how fun life can be when we indulge our fansies.

i'm hoping your new autumn days are being good to you...

bisou

p.s. i've just read your comments from my previous post... sweet sweet sweet! i love them, and so fitting for a sweet remembrance of mine. i'm pleased! that you appreciate such a lovely memory... thank you!

vintage memories

i absolutely love stumbling upon something or someones interesting that i previously knew nothing about. i stumbled upon an article in the new york times about the photographer lillian bassman who's family emigrated from russian, lived in brooklyn and then later in greenwhich village. i think i mentioned before i'm always curious about who lives in those fabulous houses in greenwich village with floor to ceiling grande windows where one can look in on the parquet floors holding up a serious collection of antique furniture.

as ms. bassman, now in her 90's, became fed up with the face of fashion and photagraphy, she all together quit the industry. she's back with an exhibit of her photagraphy from the past yet altered using todays technology. she will have a book coming out this autumn.

when i saw pictures of her work it immediately took me back to being a girl in the house as my mom and my aunt would spend time dressing to go dancing with their friends on saturday night. it was as if it were a kind of ritual. and i do mean 'time spent dressing,' as they would fill the house with music and the scent of pretty perfume. they would be walking around barefoot in their slips (remember when we wore slips beneath our dresses?) while styling their hair and putting on their makeup. i was excited myself with all the goings on. i would climb up on the closed toilet in our bathroom and stand and watch my aunt applying her makeup. lipstick was last to go on, and i'd wait, because she would put a little red lipstick on my lips. i'd stand there with my little lips poked out and my eyes closed as she rubied my lips. i'd stay that way for the rest of the night walking around too, barefoot in my panties and t-shirt until i went to bed. which was not very long really because our baby sitter had to have us in bed shortly after their leaving.

how i remember the music playing, the place smelling pretty as they slipped into their dresses and highheels for the evening. they also wore pantyhose with the seem up the middle. i'd help them get the seem in a straight line, a long black line that dissapeared into the back of their patent leather high heel pumps. i'd get a sweet kiss on the cheek and the girls would disappear out the door seemingly in a gently cloud of the most delicate and delicious smelling perfume.

it is a time that has passed...

all images by ms. lillian bassman

i give a frock

over lunch today i asked the question, have you ever known someone or someones who only takes and either gives nothing or very little? i said they will take and take until the last drop and you'll look up and find you are drained. i did get a lot of yes answers. for a minute i just needed to pull back and keep something for myself. now that i feel stronger i'd like to share again. the thing is to find a balance where i can share and not be drained, and to have some stuff for myself. it takes time to find that balance... ahhh and the patience of a saint...

do it any way~by mother teresa

people are often unreasonable, illogical,

and self-centered;

forgive them anyway.

if you are kind, people may accuse you

of selfish, ulterior motives;

be kind anyway.

if you are successful, you will win some

false friends and some true enemies;

succeed anyway.

if you are honest and frank;

people may cheat you;

be honest and frank anyway.

what you spend years building,

someone could destroy overnight;

build anyway.

if you find serenity and happiness,

they may be jealous;

be happy anyway.

the good you do today,

people will often forget tomorrow;

do good anyway.

give the world the best you have,

and it may never be enough;

give the world the best you've got anyway.

you see, in the final analysis

it is between you and God

it was never between you and them anyway.

image by kat Mcleod

stuff to share

can you imagine? i was so pleased with me new little summer sandals. i walked down the street trying to walk in a way where i could see my feet as i walked. you know the way? exagerating my steps, sticking out my toes in my sandals so that i could see my feet. oh i guess i was around six or seven years old. this is the way it worked, as my mom was a single mother of four we had to take turns for our new shoes one by one. she would save up and buy a pair for one. save up and buy a pair for the next, and on and on. this was my turn and i was quite pleased with my new shoes. i walked down the street excited to share them with my friends. not in the spirit of bragging, but in the spirit of joy, and i wanted to share this joy. they all gathered around just as excited. i took them off so that they could try them on too, walk around, let's share and enjoy. there was a girl there that i had never met before. you know how children are, it doesn't matter, come on in to our friendship group, happy to have you kind of attitude. she tried on my sandals and in her excitement she asked if she could go home and show her mother. i said yes of course. you know, she never came back. and i did not know who she was or where she lived. you should have seen the look on my mother's face when i came home with no shoes on.

thankfully we saved up and bought another pair. temporary stuff... let it go.

i'll be looking in on you this weekend to see what your up too;) have a nice one!

love

i keep hearing everyone saying how they knew something was wrong. 'didn't you see the sadness in his eyes?' they would ask. some said they saw his sadness, his addictions, the way he looked and thought, 'i don't want to be like that.' they even separate his life into 2 parts, the life before the child molestation charges, and life after the accusations.

i remember sitting in our living with my friends playing and dancing to michael jackson songs. i remember having the sweetest crush as a girl and wondering if he could ever love me. i remember as an adult watching him one evening on television with his sparkly socks inside basic black loafers, straight legged black trousers, a shimmering blazer, felt hat, and one glimmering glove, slide, slip, moonwalk across the stage. the only thing left to do was fly(?), or perhaps, simply smile deeply.

it's seems millions of times my heart was feathery light watching michael jackson perform. obviously he brought joy and laughter literally to the world. and no one in his circle it seems sincerely took a lot of moments to say 'you allright?' how can i love you? even oprah who i admire immensely said something like she was thrilled to get the interview, and after the interview didn't call.

love at times can be so simple yet profound. a simple sincere... how are you? and even if you wanted to, you could ask 'did you really do the things they say you did?' i think if love is genuine then let's talk about it.

there was a song some years ago that said something like... call me up and see about me. i'm thinking if we have someone who sincerely cares, wants to call you up and see about you, or look over into your eyes and ask 'how you doing?' ... this, money can't buy.

wandering around town

yesterday, as it was a gorgeous day in nyc i took the liberty of strolling around the city. this is 5th avenue down by greenwich village, one of my favorite spots in the city. i love standing there looking up and down the avenue... you can see the empire state building in the distance to the left.

i stopped, stood, and wondered what would they be serving up here... the line was constant.

they say you never know what you may happen upon in the city. here is a bonafide 'urban living room.' if you click to make it big you can see the 'official sign.' not visible due to my limited photograhy skills is the golden couch in the center with more folks plopped down, as well as 'the rules' that are posted as a one who might hang out in the urban living room...

here some ladies hanging out on the corner. they seemed to be deciding where they might go. i was intrigued by the wine bottle in one of the girl's hand, look down left. i love it. carrying alchohol 'exposed' in nyc is illegal. hee hee...

hope your day was sweet.

ommm

today in yoga class the instructor when asking us to relax at the beginning of class said to let go of all that does not benefit us; fears, stress, worry. how beautiful and true. it does us no good. we can put our minds on something else. joy, blessings, love, solutions...

it was a good yoga class. i had a teacher say once that there is no such thing as a bad meditation. when we try, no matter, it's good.

there is a thing about nyc. with the millions of people in this town, we all walk around with walls around us. i'm not sure why. people don't look at one another, no eye contact or acknowledgement really, as we go along our day. i always wish it were different. when we step beyond those walls, rather it be asking for directions, or anything that brings us out of our shell it is quite magical.

after yoga class one of the young ladies in the class started talking to me in the locker room. i wonder if she is new in town:) she started telling me about a mosquito that kept biting her all through class. she showed me the bite marks and everything. i couldn't believe it. as we laughed i said to her 'how hard is that?' and you're trying to be serene and meditative and a mosquito is biting you... it really was a human moment shared and i appreciated it. ...let go of all that does not benefit us...

say it ain't so... when it's not

the u.s. open ended today, so no longer do you have to suffer through my comments about tennis. ok, just one last one. i liked so much during the men's final the way the tennis players had no fear in challenging the umpire. even when they were angry they were strong in their convictions and said what they had to say and it was not always nice. as my mom is from the south, manners are a must. respect before all else. and i've since learned that manners are not always accompanied with kindness. i've always been at a loss when i know someone is clearly in the wrong as to what to say. i believed that being kind and mannerable meant not making waves. keep quiet. wrong!

i see now how one can respectfuly disagree. and disagreement is a must when it seems someone is clearly in the wrong. suffering through rudeness, wrongness or injustice is, well, unjust. and even if disagreement can't always be stated respectfully, it's still better to say what needs to be said somehow. i'm just saying, say it like you mean it, and mean it when you say it.

persistence & commitment

have you seen the film bend it like beckham? i'd arrived in spain totally unfamiliar with the game of football (soccer here in the u.s.), and equally unfamiliar with david beckham. spain was a good teacher, one can't live in spain and not learn a thing or two about soccer. though beckham is indeed a cutie, me heart belonged to zidane who played for france.

in the film, the main character above who sneaks off to play football despite her family's disaproval proves to be incredibly good at what she does and living her dream. when her family finds out and gets past their fury, her father said something that i loved. in his daughter's effort to live her dream he said with tears in his eyes 'i want her to fight and i want her to win.'

i used to think that if something did not come easily then it wasn't meant to be. why struggle. i've since learned that in most cases, not all, this could not be further from the truth. when it means something to you, fight for it. work for it and work for it really hard. stick with it and commit. keep trying and almost always something will come through. and just when you feel like you've got no more to give, something shifts and the light comes through.

i just finished watching one of the greats in this time in tennis, rafael nadal 'lose' to the argentine del portro. he was losing for most of the match. i watched wanting to turn away at times as he fought to come back (and he did not give up at all). when we try, really try, we win some and we lose some. the important thing is to try and see what comes of it. and if possibly try to enjoy the trying. persist and commit, or commit and persist, and see what presents itself.

with that said, gorgeous, sunny, warm, sunday afternoon here in nyc. nothing wrong with getting out of the house and enjoying a walk in central park. the farmer's market's on today as well, i think i'll have a little stop by. hope your sunday is sweet.

xoxo

focus

i must admit as a kid i had fun playing with my friends. we played hard and we were serious about our funtime. when i arrived home after school i would do my homework and change out of my school clothes into my play clothes and dart outside for fun and games. this went on for sixteen years and it was a good time i must admit. and i was bright enough that for the most part i did not have to study to pass my exams and courses. i retained enough from our lessons to do well in school. this may be a wonderful gift, in connection for the most part i never really studied before university. so i never really developed the habit of focusing on any one or two things. i like this picture of a girl being still and reading. not that i think a childhood should be all work and no play. not at all. but some planning, plotting and focus i think would have served me well for responsibilities and endeavors in the future. if i could speak to myself when i was say oh... ten years old i might write a letter that looks something like...

dear audrey,

you have a gift darling, you are incredibly smart and bright. how fun and wonderful. and i understand that you are having fun with your friends in and out of school. it's great that you're having such a good time. tell me some of the games you girls and boys are playing. what are some of your favorites?

i see as well that you like school and that you are doing incredibly well. congratualtions! this is wonderful. at the end of the school year, would it be alright with you if we went and had a little celebration? we could talk about some of the things that you like to do, and i could add a few suggestions to give you some new ideas and then we can celebrate you.

what are some of the things that interest you in school? tell me about how you love reading, and how you love your english classes. the reason i am asking you these questions is because i think it could be a wonderful idea if we spend a little more time on your school work and the subjects that you love. we can begin to learn the habit of focus and all the wonderful things that come from focus. it is not as much of a drag as you think it is. when you do something you love after a while it becomes a pleasure to do these things, even if it is hard work. and this will be a good habit to begin to form as it will serve you well when you are a big girl. you can focus on something and with your ability you will be able to do it really well. without focus and effort a good outcome is difficult to achieve. so we will talk about these things.

enjoy your funtime and your schooltime and i'll talk to you soon.

lots of love,
me years later

....
hmmm how interesting as i was writing this letter. thinking how i always begin many things and i don't finish. i am talking to myself these days about focus, and trying to learn a new habit.

i like very much your comments from the previous posts. i have responded with how your words struck me. are you good at focusing, beginning something and completing it? is there something that you wish that you could do well, or do well at enjoying:)? i wrote before how juliette binoche has begun to take dance lessons at the age of 44. how darling! i love this, doing something, committing to something that we enjoy... no matter what the age. i think too when we are doing that thing that we love, we are ageless.

cool and rainy here in nyc. the u.s. open matches are on pause as i have been enjoying watching them. here now with hot tea, cool music and writing... i hope you have a wonderful weekend. i'll definitely be popping in to see what you are up to...

sending weekend hugs!

love letters

sometime ago while browsing in a bookstore i came across this book, what i know: letters to my younger self. it is a collection of letters written by admirable women to themselves if somehow someway they could speak with themselves in the full knowledge and wisdom of what they know now. this struck me as a darling idea. boy if we can share some of the lessons learned and insights gained in the present with ourselves say fifteen twenty years ago.

the book and the idea stayed with me and i finally picked it up today not only with the idea of indulging in the wisdom of these ladies, but also with the idea of writing a few letters to myself, so i'll begin that tomorrow. while i'm in the midst of writing and seeing what this might look like, along the way... please feel free to add your ideas to this project. are there somethings that you could share with your twenty year old self? i'm already thinking along the lines of advising myself when i was 19/20 to focus. and too to remind myself to have fun and not worry so much. already the ideas are circling so we'll see what that looks like.

i had a best friend for about thirty years, we grew up together. i said to him once that i love the idea that he has known me in all my stages thus far. he has known me as a girl, he knew me when i was 16, when i was 26 and ahem... on and on... i'm already getting sentimental in connection to loving myself and imagining looking into the eyes of the girl i was when i was 19 years old. can you imagine? what are you thinking about dear you when you were 19, or the age you wish to speak to yourself at? love letters to ourselves.

with care

i watch people. it is a pleasure for me. i know very little about french culture, but there is a word isn't there, voyeur? mirriam webster says... etymology: french. literally, one who sees, from middle french, from voir, to see, from latin videre...

when i look up the word it seems now in modern times there are sexual connotations, but this is not what i mean or intend. i guess in modern day it is called 'people watching.' i enjoy watching people. last night during an evening at the alliance francaise, there in front of me was the most darling couple. there seem to be so many interesting things about them. i can only say seem because what do i know from looking on. first off they seemed to be sweetly in love. they seem to really enjoy one another. and it wasn't that kind of 'love' that makes other people feel left out. that may seem strange, but do you know what i mean? i'll try to explain, with pleasure. you know those kind of people that are so into themselves and their love there is a kind of vibe that says this is mine and you don't matter? then there is a love that seems to share in a way. it's almost a blessing to those who are around. i bet it has a lot to do with energy and intention which i know very little about. this couple from last night just seem to enjoy one another, kind of lost in themselves. he'd whisper to her, she'd lean in real close and brush her hair against his eyelashes as she listened closely. they seemed to really like one another. and too they seemed to have money. the only reason why i mention this is it was enjoyable to see the quality of her clothes, either a quality from a lost time, or from another place (perhaps italy) or simply what money can buy. and along with what money can buy also must come taste. her dress was a simple smoke grey/navy blue silk sheath. beautiful, with a zipper down the back. simple and elegant. she wore a set of sweet sized clear diamonds in her ears (not blood diamonds we hope). and her wedding rings, diamonds, clear, elegant and tasteful. as her dress cut just above her knees, bare legs, and simple soft leather pumps. sweet really. i just enjoyed the way they 'talked among themselves' with love, care and attention. i think that is the word that describes what was in the air and i think is a blessing to those in the midst, care... (regard coming from desire or esteem)

while writing this i'd like to think i like to people watch because it's connected to my writing, you know; characters, scene, description... or i could simply be nosey.

all things binoche

juliette binoche has a sister and her sister is an actress and film maker who has recently done a documentary on her sister juliette binoche. it's actually quite beautiful, and of course juliette binoche is her stunning talented self as always. jb is doing a world tour showing not only the documentary film, but she is a poet, dancer and painter as well. rather, it is more accurate to say that she writes poems, dances and paints. they are not her strongest talents, but ability she definitely has as was showcased in a viewing of the film and an interview this evening with charlie rose whom i adore even more.

it was a pleasure to sit and watch the binoche sisters in an interview with charlie rose hosted by the french institute here in nyc. should you run across the documentary, dance performance, poetry, picture book, or art exhibit that is all on view and tour now, it is definitely worth a visit.

i was intrigued and impressed by the multi-talent of juliette b, as well as inspired by her effort, work, and creativity. at 44 she asks the question, who says a woman can't dance at 44? brilliant question. it is incredibly true and a reminder for us ladies of all ages not to allow ourselves or our lives to be scripted for us. let's not let others impose their will on us. i appreciate binoche sharing and living these all important lessons...

summer's lease hath all to short a date

'and summer's lease hath all too short a date...' ~shakespeare

it's cool these days. sweet summer is winding her way down. it's been nice, this one. and who knew it would rain so much. i've enjoyed the rain, all cosy inside while the rains washed the city anew. but there's still some time to savor and enjoy. it's not over yet...

today's a holiday... here. so i'm back to me wee stories tommorow.

i look forward to Obama's speech tomorrow to the little kids. i always feel like i'm going back to school when september rolls around, even if i am not. i think it sinks into us this feeling of new beginnings, new lessons to learn, and new deeds to do. there's still time though. still time to... smell the roses... hee hee.

have a sweet week sweet you!

photo: alexander cameron

p.s. i had planned to pop in and leave a little note about the holiday, as dinner awaits, and i see your comments on my last post. thank you!! it really means a lot to me and deeply encourages me. the songstress erika badu has a song that she begins where she says something like... 'this is a little something we put together while playing around on stage last night.' she said to the audience, 'y'all be nice now, 'cause i'm sensitive about my stuff.'

...you have been nice. i deeply appreciate it.

bisou

brava!

one week of writing! (5 consecutive days was my goal) whoo hoo! can you believe, i have never written for one week straight? and i say i want to be a writer. well i want to celebrate this momentous occasion. and i want to thank you for popping in, reading and commenting from time to time. i really appreciate it. in fact i said to myself one evening that i wasn't going to try to write everyday because my stories are stupid and uninteresting. and then it got worse. i was going to close down my blog because my blog, too, is stupid and uninteresting. someone left a comment. and i realised someone took the time to read what i had wrote and liked it enough to comment. and i felt better and encouraged. thank you. thing is to do it. and to keep doing it until what we are doing transforms from bad to better... to good... to hopefully... brilliant. that's what i'm hoping for. and from writing from one week i find that i like it and it feels good and i will continue. thank you so much for popping in when you have a minute.

as i am one to not celebrate really, this i will celebrate as i am learning to celebrate achievements, the tiny ones and the not so tiny ones. i think it shows an appreciation for opportunity, effort, and achievement.

i was thinking of posting a picture, a celebratory cake. then i thought i would prefer to look at a picture of a gorgeous dress. then i thought, as i am watching the u.s. open these days, and i have a crush on roger federer (hee hee) i'll post a picture of him. i wondered what he might be doing today since he is not playing, of course, practice! that is what he is doing. we must practice to get good. ok he's great, it only means more practice...

hope you are having a sweet day!

pizza at bergdorfs

it is a perfect evening, just right, not too hot and not too cool. and too, the moon has the audacity to appear in full bloom lighting the new york city sky in a marvelous spooky kinda way. the clouds appear as smokey grey fluffy grey pillows across an electric blue sky. it's the nighttime outline of the skyscrapers that makes it spooky really. in any other city it simply would be a gorgeous nighttime sky, lit by the moon and sprinkled with stars. here it takes on a gotham affect with the skyscrapers knitting out a skyline fit for intrigue in spooky film.
with a steamy slice of pizza in hand, i take in the adoration of 5th avenue’s elegant especially lit shop display windows. my time in europe has taught me better, to sit down properly with occasion and enjoy a meal. nyc is bossy and dictates its own behavior; running for the subway, coffee to go, speaking in double time…
with slice in hand in front the windows of bergdorf goodmans, i’m reminded of audrey hepburn in breakfast at tiffany’s, mais sans classe, yet still romantic in its own way. i'd like to think audrey hepburn would approve...

missing

on the way to work this morning the train was packed as usual. still it was not a usual morning. none of these mornings, afternoon, nor evenings were good these few days after the world trade center collapse, or whatever you want to call it. i really don't want to think about it much less call it something. naming it makes it real and not a dream. we're all standing there around this pole holding on. i see the missing signs and pictures in her hands like all the too many ones posted around the city. people missing the ones they love. sadly it's not unusual for someone to ask how you are these days followed by 'did you know anyone in the wtc crash?' i didn't, i breathed quietly and gratefully inward. i asked her, i mean she's holding the signs in her hands. 'are you missing someone.' deep sigh, 'yes, my son.' she went on to explain in what i later learned was an australian accent that her son was missing in the wtc collapse. i thought to myself, it's been 2 days and she hasn't heard anything yet. but if there is one thing you need to know about me, that is, i'm probably the biggest dreamer you'll ever meet. add to that i'm an eternal optimist. he could turn up, and i believed that, but i didn't say that to her. i didn't want to sound 'light' about it all.

she was here on holiday. he, her son had kissed her goodbye that september eleventh morning on his way to work. they would play after work. he'd show her some more of the city that she was visiting for the first time. the ironic thing about it is, the weather was gorgeous that day, as it always is in september here. perfect for roaming around the city and discovering. but that day, the sky was filled with black smoke against the clearest blue background, and you could smell it for miles and miles.

'so here she was,' she went on to tell me, 'here alone in this city for the first time after all this trying to navigate whatever it is that needs to be navigated to find her son.' one of which meant walking around the city posting missing signs with his picture and crucial information about him and what to do should you see him.

a seat opened up nearby and i asked her if she would like to sit. immediately afterward the one next to her opened up as well. i sat down. she said she was going to hang the signs and then go back to the apartment and have a cup of tea. i'm not one to tell another how to worry or grieve, but a cup of tea seamed rather light to me, and i adore tea. it wasn't until many years later that i learned that for the brits, irish, and australians, a cup of tea is a temporary soothing answer to what hurts. you have a seat, a sip, cry a little, talk with someone you love and get your breath back, at least enough to carry on.

i sat there lending my love as best i could under the circumstances. eventually i got off and went on to work. but i never forgot that moment there with that lady. and i still wonder if she ever did find her son.

i've been spending some time reading the magazine/journal poets and writers. there's an article about a writer who apparently is/was famous named Jay McInernay who wrote 'bright lights, big city.' I haven't heard of him. but there is much that i don't know about the literary world. i'm putting myself in the business of enjoying and learning about things connected to books and words and ideas. but what interested me about this writer is that, connected to his success and once playboy existence is his time in new york city. he lives in greenwich village. i wonder if he lives in one of those fabulous homes. i mean many of the houses in greenwich village are gorgeous. i always walk by in awe as i glance inside the floor to ceiling windows onto these beautiful spacious living rooms with lots of room to live.

this writer says that 'it makes him sad that Manhattan, the once edgy, diverse destination for generations of young artists and writers, has become an outpost for wealthy wall streeters.' this puts a finger on the many changes the city has undergone in the recent past decades, making it terribly expensive to live and be here. in connection he writes about the young, rich and fabulous that vacation on nearby islands like the hamptons and sag harbor. i think i might have to pick up a copy of his new collection of short stories. having grown up in nyc and with time, seeing all the rich and famous nouveau riche come in (i think old money has been here for a long time... but what do i know) i've always wondered who they are and what they do.

it's not that i'm so interested in them so much as learning about beautiful places close to nyc with maybe delicious food and wine... yum yum. maybe a travel guide will do, but then a juicy story in connection makes it all come alive... non?

photo of sag harbor by melinnis

little ones

she'd stepped outside the laundermat, tiny steps, as she was a little thing. she did a small slide towards the wall, parked herself there. her back against the wall, she slid down to the floor. tears in her eyes she let out a big sigh.

i turned my eyes to inside the laudermat to see where might these tears be coming from. who was responsible, and was someone coming to make it better. no one came. only the sounds of machines humming with the sounds of squishy washings, and tumbling drying came out.

i wanted to walk over to the little one, dry her tears and find out what was wrong. maybe help to make it better. but i was afraid. mammas and daddys don't like strangers near their children. understandable completely. so i moved on. pity.

be yourself

life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. ~john lennon

there are a number of things that have brought about the thought of this quote. i just put on the music of sade. remember her from the eighties? i have always loved her music. with sade you either love her music or not, take it or leave it. i have found, for the most part, there are no in-betweens. i happen to love it. perhaps it is the simplicity and the sensualness of her music that gets me. so much so i find it hard to listen to. some have even described her music as haunting. i wonder if this has anything to do with me finding it difficult to listen to. but i suspect that it has something to do with another thing that i am not so sure what it is. i hope to discover it right here with you while typing out these words.

you see her music like a few other things, i feel deeply. and perhaps this passion makes me afraid. kind of like that marianne williamson quote where she says something like our fears are connected to our wonderfulness. i'll try and leave the quote before i leave this space. but the idea is that we are so utterly cool within ourselves, it frightens us and we want to hide. don't know where that comes from. probably someone or someones saw us being our audaciously fabulous selves and fed us some crap to make us want to shrink. folks do that to kids you know. anywho, i digress...

so the thing is there are things that i love that touch me deeply that i have for far too long tried to stay away from. you would not even believe what they are (perhaps you have your own list. do you?). you already know about the music and sensualness of sade, i'll add to this...

• the flavor of sundried tomatos... intense. who wants to feel that deeply.


• really good looking guys. i feel like they might see me if i look at them, thus i hide.


• i buy really pretty clothes; dresses, slacks, blouses and skirts and i save them in my closet. for what i am not sure. perhaps if i wear them i will show off that fabulous me that i hide from(?)


• really really good books, i save them with the idea when i am strong enough i will read them. i open the pages and i see the quality of the writing and the intrigue of the story and i want to run and hide. too good, too deep. i'm out!


• there was this really good looking guy and incredibly interesting that was interested in me. he was funny because he was so frank and open. he would send me messages asking why i don't call him. i would send a message back saying he was too cute and fantastic. he would write back... 'so call me!' but i would not.

back to our quote, life is what is happening while we are making other plans. i noticed, mostly because of a recent writing, that i have these dreams of what i think my life should be like. when i wrote them down i realised that this is a kind of ideal life that i have been brainwashed into believing my life should look like. and luckily i'd like to think that i am smart enough and fabulous enough (smile), to realise that this is not what i want at all. and gratefully it has led me to begin to see what does exist in my life that i adore. and in connection to bring to light the things that i love; people, places and things. this, of course, flowers my life, allowing me to live and experience a life that was taylor made for me. and without allowing this, my days and life as a result will be empty and grey. i suppose for all of us, things would be empty and grey if we hide from ourselves and that which we love and touches us deeply. so lets not hide for those of us who are hiding. and for those of us who are not hiding, we continue to be inspired by you.

here's that marianne williamson quote (so often mistakenly attributed to nelson mandela but that's another story about a great person making a little mistake. see it happens to all of us.)

'our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. it is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. we ask ourselves 'who am i to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' actually who are you not to be?... your playing small does not serve the world. there's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. we are all meant to shine, as children do...'

sade's sweetest taboo... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c52JzxjEPNU