Saturday, January 31, 2015


Thursday, January 29, 2015

The Sears Photo Studio

Scanning one old photograph is like trying to eat just one chip.
I vividly remember the day this one was taken, or at least I think I do.
Memories are so often fractured, and can get jumbled in my brain. 
Anyway, the day I ascribe to this day was a hot one,
summer, definitely summer.
I was visiting relatives in Brooklyn.
Flatbush in the '60s,
pre-pre-pre hipsters being conceived let alone setting foot in the borough.
My cousin, who was probably only 14, took me to visit her mother at work.
I was going to have my picture taken.
 A very big deal.
The journey to get there was memorable.
I'm most certain it was my first subway ride, and the noise was almost unbearable.
I was overwhelmed by the crowds, the darkness as the lights flickered,
the heat, and the screeching sound of steel.
I may have even screamed.
Outside, I recovered quickly.
I was carefree walking the wide, urban sidewalks.  So much to see.
I was mesmerized by everyone who crossed my path, until
I was scolded for being impolite.  
My suburban neighborhood was no match for this colorful playground.
The adventure did not leave a trace of trauma or upset on my face.
Just pure delight.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

The crocheted vest

Since it appeared on Miu Miu's runway,
the crocheted vest, circa 1972, is making a comeback.
Even Jane Aldridge of Sea of Shoes showed off her recent thrift store find.
I sported this chic article of clothing in my 3rd grade class photo.
A day not wearing my Catholic school uniform was indeed a special day, so
what to wear for the class pic was not a decision made in haste.
I remember my mother making this red, white, and blue vest.
I'm certain the colors were not chosen at random.
Although a few years shy of the bicentennial, I was already very patriotic.

Sunday, January 25, 2015


"The only reason you say that race was not an issue is because you wish it was not. We all wish it was not. But it’s a lie. I came from a country where race was not an issue; I did not think of myself as black and I only became black when I came to America. When you are black in America and you fall in love with a white person, race doesn’t matter when you’re alone together because it’s just you and your love. But the minute you step outside, race matters. But we don’t talk about it. We don’t even tell our white partners the small things that piss us off and the things we wish they understood better, because we’re worried they will say we’re overreacting, or we’re being too sensitive. And we don’t want them to say, Look how far we’ve come, just forty years ago it would have been illegal for us to even be a couple blah blah blah, because you know what we’re thinking when they say that? We’re thinking why the fuck should it ever have been illegal anyway? But we don’t say any of this stuff. We let it pile up inside our heads and when we come to nice liberal dinners like this, we say that race doesn’t matter because that’s what we’re supposed to say, to keep our nice liberal friends comfortable. It’s true. I speak from experience."

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Crossing to Safety

Joined my first book group.
Eclectic bunch.
Sit down dinner, followed by opinionated, lively conversation
The majority favored Stegnar's Crossing to Safety, as did I,
but several really loathed it.  
Next up:  Flaubert's Sentimental Education.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

We Are All Completely Besides Ourselves

The happening and telling are very different things. This doesn’t mean that the story isn’t true,
only that I honestly don’t know anymore if I really remember it or only remember how to tell it. Language does this to our memories, simplifies, solidifies, codifies, mummifies. An off-told story is like a photograph in a family album. Eventually it replaces the moment it was meant to capture.

Karen Joy Fowler

Monday, January 5, 2015

Moonrise Kingdom

Saturday, January 3, 2015

We Were Liars

Friday, January 2, 2015

One Word

My word for 2015 is abundance.

The gap that separates lack from abundance is self-created. Abundance, however, comes down to connecting with a natural part of life. It is lack and loss that are unnatural. Life is a field of infinite possibilities. The unknown isn't filled with just a few good things; the possibilities are unending. Try to make the connection. You have the ability. Creating your own reality is the richest gift you received at birth. Abundance is a wellspring for you to tap into, and the process of getting there actually works.

Deepak Chopra

Thursday, January 1, 2015


I didn't intend to leave my voice in 2014, but I did.
It barely followed me into the new year.
By 130am it was gone.
 Bizarre to speak and have nothing come out.
On the bright side, I'm starting the new year with a new experience.
Struggling to take this in stride.
Ten hours and it hasn't returned.
Thankful for texting, the use of my thumbs,
and the energy to pack up Christmas, and saw hello, albeit it in a whisper, to the new year.
Tomorrow I'll be going to the doctor.