Observations on Art 1.30

Since its invention photography has given us a side of conflict that it wasn’t possible to see before. Unstaged photos convey its emotional side that I personally don’t think the written word can touch. They have the ability to reach out and tug at the heart of the viewer.

Below are two such photos. The bottom was taken on June 18, 2009 in Tehran, Iran. The top was taken just yesterday in Cairo, Egypt.


Lefteris Pitarakis / AP

ZhuPix

Observations from the Coffee Shop 1.30

Revolution by social networking, the very idea intrigues my inner geek side. What I mean is people using Twitter and Facebook to organize and overthrow a corrupt government, or attempt to do so. I'm not going to pretend to understand it but some random observations ....

I first remember seeing it in the 2009 Green Revolution in Iran. This was highlighted by the Green Facebook page and its 56 youtube videos including the sad death of Nedā on June 20, 2009. The video was uploaded two days later and now has well over one million views. The Green Revolution also included possibly the first ever use of DoS attacks in protests of any kind as opposition supporters attacked government sites and exchanged attack tools on Twitter and Facebook.

Earlier this month saw the Jasmine Revolution topple the President of Tunisia and force him to flee the country quickly followed by this week’s unrest in Egypt. What makes the latter interesting is the government's total shutdown of the internet. Tunisia had cut off certain websites and Iran slowed it to the point it was almost unusable but nobody, not even China, has ever attempted a complete shutdown before. Twitter and Facebook went down on Tuesday (1/25) and in the early morning hours of Friday the entire web was shutdown followed by Egypt's cell phone networks.

In Iran opposition leaders, the middle class, and especially women seemed to grasp there new power but also saw the writing on the wall and choose to fight another day. In Tunisia the Twitter revolution was wildly successful and the president was forced to flee the county. In Egypt it's too early to tell but one has to wonder how long a modern country with modern business can operate in the world without the internet.

"Why in the most vibrant democracy in the world, where engagement and knowledge of the world is probably the most important, why it's not available is one of these things that would take a PhD scholar to understand," said Tony Burman, head of North American strategies for Al Jazeera English on why the free network is not available in the United States.

In some interesting side notes China has blocked the word 'Egypt' from all its search engines and I have to ask; has NBC News's Chief Foreign Correspondent Richard Engel become the new Anderson Cooper?

update - After I posted this I saw the following in the Washington Post. "Liz Sly reports from Baghdad: "Activists on Twitter are furiously tweeting the dates of the next putative uprisings: Sudan on Jan. 30, Yemen on Feb. 3, Syria on Feb. 5 and Algeria on Feb. 12. 'Arab Revolution Timetable,' say the tweets hurtling among the region's new generation of cyberspace revolutionaries."

update 2/2 - Al Jazeera reported "Social media used in bid to mobilise Syrians for rallies demanding freedom, human rights and the end to emergency law." Supposedly this coming weekend.

the Loner

"We are the ones who know how to entertain ourselves. How to learn without taking a class. How to contemplate and how to create.

Loners, by virtue of being loners, in celebrating the state of standing alone, have an innate advantage when it comes to being brave—like pioneers, like mountain men, iconoclasts, rebels, and sole survivors.

Loners have an advantage when faced with the unknown, the never-done-before, and the unprecedented. An advantage when it comes to being mindful like the Buddhists, spontaneous like the Taoists, crucibles of concentrated prayer like the desert saints, esoteric like the cabalists.

Loners, by virtue of being loners, have at their fingertips the undiscovered, the unique, the rarified. Innate advantages when it comes to imagination, concentration, inner discipline.

A knack for invention, originality, for finding resources in what others would call vacuums. A knack for visions."

Anneli Rufus, "Party of One, The Loners Manifesto"

Observations from the Window 1.27

So this winter from hell keeps spawning new terminology, at least new to me. Welcome to thundersnow. The snowpocalypse was bad enough but last night Mother Nature came to the party armed and it seemed more than a little pissed off. Snow, sleet, and freezing rain were followed by another foot of heavy wet snow. And than there was the thunder, at the same time awesome but so surprising because it is the last thing you expect while sitting watching the snow fall. Yes Mother Nature seems to be mad as hell and is taking it out on the Northeast this winter. I'm not alone in thinking that the Village has had quite enough of it.

It is now officially the snowiest January on record in New York City and has snowed eight times in the Village since December 14th. The mayor just said 1,700 plows are out on the streets but I have yet to see one on our street. But than the mayor was also late for his press conference so even his four wheel drive limo must be have problems navigating the streets. Those bicycle messengers don't seem to have any problem though and it’s funny to watch people dive out of their way as the bikes race down the sidewalk. I think I would need to throw a well placed hip check if one of them tried to run me out of the way but I haven't been that lucky yet.

Funny thing is that so far this year the Penn State’s main campus has received just 14" of snow or pretty much what was dumped on Central Park just last night. Go figure, either the snow is following me or my enviro-geek brother is right and it's global warming. Fresh from a photo walk in the falling snow I checked my email and found one from him with a link to an op-ed piece titled 'Bundle Up, It’s Global Warming.' It could be written in Sindarin for all I know so I'll leave the science to him but he likes it so I'll pass it on.

And finally I give you my thought for the day. I should be sitting on a beach digging my feet into the warm sand and than reaching for the bottle of Corona. No? Well at least I have my skates now.

Corona Extra - The Football

Observations 1.25

".... this country has frankly become a warfare state built on affluence, a power structure in which the interests of big business, the obsessions of the military, and the phobias of political extremists both dominate and dictate our national policy. It also seems that most people in this country are by and large reduced to passivity, confusion, resentment, frustration, thoughtlessness, and ignorance, so that they blindly follow any line that is unraveled for them by the mass media."

Trappist monk Thomas Merton wrote that in 1963 in the preface of his collected letters for peace "The Cold War Letters." I read that earlier today and just found it fascinating that it was written almost fifty years ago yet if you didn't know you would think it was written yesterday. I'm not trying to say anything with this but I felt like sharing.

Early reviews of the State of the Union speech say well done Mr. President, time will tell. Republican response, "Washington shouldn't be in the business of picking winners and losers." Isn't that exactly what Washington is in the business of?

Observations from the Window 1.24

By all accounts I seem to have survived another attack of the mood. It was a good idea to run home for a couple days because it did seem to clear my head for now. For two days I did nothing but eat good steak, watch sports, and talk with the family about our roads ahead. We also managed to consume a case or so of my dad’s beer in the process but we aren’t telling.

One fun moment was seeing my brother's Penn State diplomas which had just arrived via the USPS. They left them out on the front porch in the melting snow, after four years and a small fortune spent, they left them sit in the fucking snow. Sorry maybe the mood isn’t totally passed yet. Anyway the kid now has more papers than I do as he got a diploma for each of his minors too. So as of this writing he is ahead three pieces of paper to my two, online Academy of Art here I come.

So why the mood? It's been some time since I fell into one and I'm not totally sure why. Over the years I have tried to figure out their cause but I have never had much success and neither has anyone else. I’ve been told part of the reason is that I'm an emotional person but I keep those emotions bottled up so eventually they need a release. I do partly accept that because I can see that release when I paint, almost as if those emotions flow through my fingers and the brushes onto the canvas. Than again maybe I am just insane and nobody has figured that out yet.

It's at times like this that my mountains always worked their primo magic and it's when I now miss them the most. But I have to wonder if it's just one of those things I look back at longingly knowing I can never completely go back. It seems as if the past can taunt you like that, teasing you with its perfection yet never giving it back. With my brother gone the last links in the chain are broken yet I still find myself drawn to those mountains.

So maybe the answer to the unasked question is that I'm not the mountain painter nor am I the city photographer. Maybe the answer is a combination I have yet to find.

Maybe I have to find it ....

Avril Lavigne - What The Hell

Observations from the Road 1.22

When I got the bus this morning it was so effing cold, 12 degrees it said, and that's even too damn cold to smoke a cigarette. I know it got cold in the mountains but I never remember feeling this cold when I was there. Of course one can’t bundle up in parkas in the Village, it just doesn’t look good at all. The only other option is to wrap yourself in faux fur and look like a mongoose chasing a track rat down the street. Not that I haven’t seen this, I have, but damn if that’s going to be me.

Something the art geek in me thinks is important for you to know is the fact that I totally love the scent of color. So you are probably now wondering how color can have a scent but think about it. I get a head rush from a new box of crayons or the woody smell of new pencils. Painters will argue till the end of time which smells worse, oil or acrylic paints. I don't care who wins that argument because I like them both. Or maybe I just like the way my brain purrs after a day of painting and drinking Corona. Now don't even get me started on linseed oil.

After the Tuscon shootings I had wanted to write a post about guns and gun control but I never did. One thing I was going to admit was that I own a gun myself which is a long story that I'm not going to get into now. I haven’t touched it in years and I don't have it in the Village, which is kind of idiotic to add because if I haven’t touched it in years how was it going to get there? Besides just to apply for a handgun permit in NYC is $350 plus another $100 for fingerprints. Anyway I decided I need to do something so I am turning it in to get melted down or dropped in the tar pits or whatever it is they do with them. It may only be symbolic in a country as well armed as this but it’s something I think I to do it anyway.

On the bus home I was reading an article about Patti Smith in an old copy of ‘New York' magazine ("Remembrances of the Punk Prose Poetess"). It's a good article and worth a read and two things totally jumped out at me. The first is ".... an anti-feminist feminist icon who dressed androgynously, used dirty slang like William Burroughs, and argued that words like Ms. were “really bullshit,” as she said in 1976. 'Vowels are the most illuminated letters in the alphabet, and these assholes take the only fucking vowel out of the word miss. It sounds like a sick bumblebee, it sounds frigid.'” I like the way she speaks, sounds familiar to me. The second is just a quote from one of her band members, guitarist Lenny Kaye. “We’ve always had a little maxim, in our band, that the guardians of history are soon rewarded with history itself."

And where have you gone Keith Olbermann? Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

Bullet For My Valentine - Hearts Burst Into Fire

Observations from the Window 1.20

I have been quiet here lately but not for lack of trying. Seems I have slipped into one of my moods and the more I tried to write my way out of it the more depressing the read became. Just one of those moods I get in where I'm not happy with anything at all, I just hate everything equally. I might have a reason or I might not; it doesn't seem to matter at times like this. With know obvious cause for the melancholy feeling everything becomes the cause and the mood becomes a demon that feeds on itself. I just feel mentally and emotionally drained, tortured, dejected, gloomy .... emo.

One time my mom gave me a carton of eggs and told me to throw them in the kitchen sink to blow off steam. I don’t remember if it helped but I do remember it being fun as hell so I gave that a try yesterday. Made one hell of a mess for me to clean is what it did. Next up I might try slinging paint at canvas while trying not to hit the walls, or maybe sling paint at the walls themselves. Either way it could get interesting.

At times like this my girls always seem to know what's best for me. Last night one suggested I soak in the tub with tunes and a drink. I won’t pass on what else she suggested but it all seemed to help me unwind and get to sleep. Than today the VQ told me to just stay home and do something to relax, like I know how to do something like that. But some wandering the Village, doing some photos, and another soak in the tub have done wonders for my attitude. Ash also came up with the idea of making a run home to recharge which I might just do. I'm not about to risk taking Foxy out in this crappy weather again but I just might look bitchy enough to get a pair of seats to myself. I just have to remember to skip the hells this trip.

And so life goes on.

Bob Dylan - Not Dark Yet

Disclaimer - I should admit I lied up above because I don't hate everything equally. Even in my mood I hate that jackass Glenn Beck more.

Observations 1.18

As the ice approaches thoughts turn to the Phillies and spring ....

Observations from the Window 1.16, Randomness

After careful thought I came to a conclusion tonight. If I ever give up on a career in art I'm going to language school to learn either Pashto or Punjabi and than I am going to get a taxi license. Last night I was in the mood for seafood so after the gallery I called a cab to run down to the South Street Seaport. Some of the best seafood in the city can be found at some little restaurants just outside the main part of the seaport, I guess you could say outside the tourist part. Did I mention they are cheaper too?

So when the cab picked me up I was on the phone and just muttered seaport to the driver. He knew what I meant but without an exact address he dropped me off outside Harbour Lights which is the most expensive restaurant in the area. He jumped out and opened the door for me, a nice touch, but than I saw him give a little wave to the doorman so I'm kind of thinking that he gets a diff kind of tip depending where he drops somebody off. This on top of tips which are on top of $35,000 a year. Export terrorists hell, Pakistan exports cabbies and they support whole tribes back home all on their own.

Earlier this week I managed to pass a new milestone in New York. I think it's safe to say that over the years I seem to have had more than my fair share of run ins with authority. It doesn't seem to matter where I happen to be living at the time, it's just a simple fact. But I have managed to keep a rather low profile since I moved to the Village, as low a profile as an almost six foot tall girl can anyway, but as karma would have it this too would come to an end.

I was in a subway station a couple days ago, minding my own business and taking a few shots as I always seem to be doing when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to face, I should say look down to, an NYPD officer who proceeded to ask if he could see my camera. Now you have to understand that nobody touches my camera and I wasn't about to hand it over to him. For all I knew he would get spooked by a track rat and drop it on the platform. Than he started to tell me that due to security measures adopted after 9/11 I wasn't allowed to take photos in the subway. I very politely told him bullshit.

Ever since I took some shots at ground zero about a month after the attack I make a point of knowing where I can and where I can't shoot. A ban was proposed years ago but was never adopted but he was hearing none of what I had to say because he said what I was doing was suspicious. Luckily just than a train pulled in and I quickly asked if I could go to which he said I should get home safe. As I stepped on the train I had no idea which train it was or where it was going but it seemed like a good idea to get the hell out of there.

Only me ....

Sirenia - The End Of It All

Observations

My primary resource on these things, the Urban Dictionary, defines hero as “Someone who helps without anything expected in return. Their gesture may be big or small, profound or not, it doesn't make im' any less of a hero.”

In his speech in Tucson tonight President Obama said “We are grateful for Daniel Hernandez, a volunteer in Gabby's office who ran through the chaos to minister to his boss, tending to her wounds to keep her alive. We are grateful for the men who tackled the gunman as he stopped to reload. We are grateful for a petite 61 year-old, Patricia Maisch, who wrestled away the killer's ammunition, undoubtedly saving some lives.”

And so I give you a hero ….



Complete text of President Obama's speech.

Observations from the Library 1.12

As much as I like to complain about it I have always liked snow and the winter. To prove my point I'll say I own two pairs of skis and two pairs of ice skates all of which are home at my dad's because one does not do winter in the city. At least that is what I thought until now. I'm either in a better mood since the holidays are past or I’m just resigned to this being one of those snowy winters because I didn't mind at all the coming of the second big nor'easter of the winter. Actually I was more than a little excited as I watched the storm start.

Last night I sat in the window watching the first flakes fall and I came to a decision. No matter how much snow fell overnight today was going to be a snow day and I wasn't going to let work get in the way of it. I even had a plan for the day because somebody had told me of a shop near Central Park that rents cross country skis. Now I may have cross country skied all of one time in my life but I was ready to give looking like a tall dark leather clad fool my best shot. Only problem was the store was closed so I had to move quickly to plan b, whatever that was going to be.

My winter exercises of choice have always been ice skating and ice hockey but I have notoriously weak ankles so I have to wear hockey skates for the extra support and many public rinks don’t rent hockey skates. As I wandered through Central Park I was dreaming of my oh so far away CCM skates when I happened to start talking to somebody and skates came up. Not long after I found myself the proud renter of a pair of well worn hockey skates and in search of ice to skate on.

I headed to Bryant Park because at Citi Pond it is free to skate and I had my camera with me and knew that lockers there were also free. How do they make any money? I didn't say locks were free I just said the lockers were but I'm smart enough to carry a lock in my backpack. When you carry a camera around all the time you never know when you might need one, just like with a bike. After a couple hours on skates, and a slightly bruised butt, I wandered into the library to check in. Than I can do some 'work' I need to do and still be able to skate again later. Skate until I have to head home or until my legs and ass scream for mercy, whichever comes first.

Even though we got another foot of snow dumped on us the storm wasn't nearly as bad as the last one. I do feel for the people of Connecticut, Boston, and the rest of New England where as of now they have gotten up to thirty new inches. Still for me it turned out to be a pretty good snow day. I got out in the air, I got to skate, and I wrote this instead of the gun control or Sara Palin posts I had been thinking about.

All in due time.

White Lies - Farewell To The Fairground

Observations from the Window 1.10

I don't know if I had ever heard of Gabrielle Giffords before Saturday afternoon but the first tweet I saw made sure I would never forget the congresswoman from Arizona, it told me she was dead. Thankfully within minutes I heard that she was still alive but I also learned that a federal judge was dead, that a nine year old girl was dead*, and that three others were also dead. It seemed as if this country had again reached a turning point but the direction of that turn remains to be seen.

My heart goes out to Ms. Giffords, to all the victims, and to their families. Personally I see no reason to blame anybody for this tragedy other than the madman that pulled the trigger. Still some things do seem clear and one of those things is the fact that sadly I wasn't the least bit surprised that this had happened.

When so self styled leaders begin placing 'targets' on their opponents and their supporters carry guns to political rallies the thought of actually using those same weapons can't be far behind. In the end it doesn't matter if it was planned or if it was just some lone madman whose time for glory had come. When fear is used as the political weapon of choice those who use it have to be held partially responsible for the consequences of its use. Second amendment solutions, cross-hair covered maps, and violent rhetoric have no place in our politics because they created the environment in which that madman could pick up his gun and finally pull the trigger. Ultimately words do have far reaching consequences and always have.

George Santayana said "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" and this is as true of politics as anything else. Hopefully this nation learned something from that beloved decade that baby boomers seem to always crave a return to.

A more apt name would be the bloody sixties.

*The girl was Christina Taylor Green, granddaughter of former Philadelphia Phillies manager Dallas Green.

Observations on Art 1.10

The confusion that is my mind. Painting versus photography, abstract versus realism. it seems to be a never ending debate between my still living brain cells.

I don't paint to create a style of my own, what I do is paint from the heart to share what I feel. I paint for myself and don't really expect anybody to understand it. When I paint I don't think about how somebody will feel about it unless I am actually doing it for somebody.
I just love the feel and the smell of the paints to the point that sometimes I just like to push the oils around with my fingers like a child playing with water paints.

Photography is so totally different to me because it has that instant gratification aspect to it. I love taking a hundred shots and than go picking through them looking for that one shot, the one that says everything I was trying to say.
I care more what people think of my photos. I want to know their feelings, their opinions, and what it makes them think. Yet I spend so much less time on photo than I do on a painting while I'm stressing about them more.

Because of this blog sometimes I write down thoughts that I think I might want to expand on later. Towards the end of last year I wrote 'I need to be more a participant and less an observer' in the world around me. Not that I expect myself to start playing chess in WSP but I feel like I need to open up to everything more. Than Friday night I was at a party and fell into the usual sit back and take it all in routine and realized that I am what I am. I like being the observer, i like sitting back and taking it all in. It's just what I do.

The dilemma is how best to share what I take in. Painting or photography ....

The Church - Under The Milky Way

Observations

I had written an art post at the gallery today but after today's events in Arizona I thought I would just post a transcript of Keith Olbermann's special comment tonight. i don't think anybody could have said it any better ....

"Finally tonight, as promised, a Special Comment on the attempted assassination of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona. We need to put the guns down. Just as importantly we need to put the gun metaphors away and permanently.

Left, right, middle - politicians and citizens - sane and insane. This morning in Arizona, this age in which this country would accept "targeting" of political opponents and putting bullseyes over their faces and of the dangerous blurring between political rallies and gun shows, ended.

This morning in Arizona, this time of the ever-escalating, borderline-ecstatic invocation of violence in fact or in fantasy in our political discourse, closed. It is essential tonight not to demand revenge, but to demand justice; to insist not upon payback against those politicians and commentators who have so irresponsibly brought us to this time of domestic terrorism, but to work to change the minds of them and their supporters - or if those minds tonight are too closed, or if those minds tonight are too unmoved, or if those minds tonight are too triumphant, to make sure by peaceful means that those politicians and commentators and supporters have no further place in our system of government.

If Sarah Palin, whose website put and today scrubbed bullseye targets on 20 Representatives including Gabby Giffords, does not repudiate her own part in amplifying violence and violent imagery in politics, she must be dismissed from politics - she must be repudiated by the members of her own party, and if they fail to do so, each one of them must be judged to have silently defended this tactic that today proved so awfully foretelling, and they must in turn be dismissed by the responsible members of their own party.

If Jesse Kelly, whose campaign against Congresswoman Giffords included an event in which he encouraged his supporters to join him firing machine guns, does not repudiate this, and does not admit that even if it was solely indirectly, or solely coincidentally, it contributed to the black cloud of violence that has enveloped our politics, he must be repudiated by Arizona's Republican Party.

If Congressman Allen West, who during his successful campaign told his supporters that they should make his opponent afraid to come out of his home, does not repudiate those remarks and all other suggestions of violence and forced fear, he should be repudiated by his constituents and the Republican Congressional Caucus.

If Sharron Angle, who spoke of "Second Amendment solutions," does not repudiate that remark and urge her supporters to think anew of the terrible reality of what her words implied, she must be repudiated by her supporters in Nevada.

If the Tea Party leaders who took out of context a Jefferson quote about blood and tyranny and the tree of liberty do not understand - do not understand tonight, now what that really means, and these leaders do not tell their followers to abhor violence and all threat of violence, then those Tea Party leaders must be repudiated by the Republican Party.

If Glenn Beck, who obsesses nearly as strangely as Mr. Loughner did about gold and debt and who wistfully joked about killing Michael Moore, and Bill O'Reilly, who blithely repeated "Tiller the Killer" until the phrase was burned into the minds of his viewers, do not begin their next broadcasts with solemn apologies for ever turning to the death-fantasies and the dreams of bloodlust, for ever having provided just the oxygen to those deep in madness to whom violence is an acceptable solution, then those commentators and the others must be repudiated by their viewers, and by all politicians, and by sponsors, and by the networks that employ them.

And if those of us considered to be "on the left" do not re-dedicate ourselves to our vigilance to eliminate all our own suggestions of violence - how ever inadvertent they might have been then we too deserve the repudiation of the more sober and peaceful of our politicians and our viewers and our networks.

Here, once, in a clumsy metaphor, I made such an unintended statement about the candidacy of then-Senator Clinton. It sounded as if it was a call to physical violence. It was wrong, then. It is even more wrong tonight. I apologize for it again, and I urge politicians and commentators and citizens of every political conviction to use my comment as a means to recognize the insidiousness of violent imagery, that if it can go so easily slip into the comments of one as opposed to violence as me, how easily, how pervasively, how disastrously can it slip into the already-violent or deranged mind?

For tonight we stand at one of the clichéd crossroads of American history. Even if the alleged terrorist Jared Lee Loughner was merely shooting into a political crowd because he wanted to shoot into a political crowd, even if he somehow was unaware who was in the crowd, we have nevertheless for years been building up to a moment like this.

Assume the details are coincidence. The violence is not. The rhetoric has devolved and descended, past the ugly and past the threatening and past the fantastic and into the imminently murderous.

We will not return to the 1850s, when a pro-slavery Congressman nearly beat to death an anti-slavery Senator; when an anti-slavery madman cut to death with broadswords pro-slavery advocates.

We will not return to the 1960s, when with rationalizations of an insane desire for fame, or of hatred, or of political opposition, a President was assassinated and an ultra-Conservative would-be president was paralyzed, and a leader of peace was murdered on a balcony.
We will not.

Because tonight, what Mrs. Palin, and what Mr. Kelly, and what Congressman West, and what Ms. Angle, and what Mr. Beck, and what Mr. O'Reilly, and what you and I must understand, was that the man who fired today did not fire at a Democratic Congresswoman and her supporters.

He was not just a mad-man incited by a thousand daily temptations by slightly less-mad-men to do things they would not rationally condone.

He fired today into our liberty and our rights to live and to agree or disagree in safety and in freedom from fear that our support or opposition will cost us our lives or our health or our sense of safety. The bullseye might just as well have been on Mrs. Palin, or Mr. Kelly, or you, or me. The wrong, the horror, would have been - could still be just as real and just as unacceptable.

At a time of such urgency and impact, we as Americans - conservative or liberal - should pour our hearts and souls into politics. We should not - none of us, not Gabby Giffords and not any Conservative - ever have to pour our blood. And every politician and commentator who hints otherwise, or worse still stays silent now, should have no place in our political system, and should be denied that place, not by violence, but by being shunned and ignored.

It is a simple pledge, it is to the point, and it is essential that every American politician and commentator and activist and partisan take it and take it now, I say it first, and freely:

Violence, or the threat of violence, has no place in our Democracy, and I apologize for and repudiate any act or any thing in my past that may have even inadvertently encouraged violence. Because for whatever else each of us may be, we all are Americans."

link

Observations from the Window 1.6

A couple of days ago Ash and I went to a sort of meeting after work. The who or why of the meeting isn't very important but the where I found intriguing. We had dinner at this little lesbian bar that is only a couple blocks from the gallery. I had passed it many times before but had never stepped inside because it looks like a dive from the outside and I had no idea what to expect. Now I have to be honest here and say that yes i have been in lesbian bars before, maybe more than once, but never one like this.

(Suddenly I feel as if every male reader I have just left the room.)

It was just so different than any i have been in before. You enter the bar up a steep flight of steps that is just long enough to keep nosy NYU students from checking in. Once you are inside you find everything is a deep yet bright red in a style that reminds you of a bad movie version of the late Soviet empire. The walls, the leather bar chairs, even the matchbooks on the bar are red. So part of what makes it so different is the style.

But more than the style it was the people in the bar that gave it such an intriguing feel. Maybe having a theatre above it explained some of that but I'm not sure. The best way to explain it is this. The people in the bar totally reminded me of the corner bar I go to to watch sports with a major difference. Everybody inside was a lesbian, or pretending to be one for the night, and I never experienced that in this type of bar before.

As I sat chatting I started to compare the clientele here with other small bars and every role was here. The boyfriend, the girlfriend, the protector, the whore, the lawyer, and the working class person all in a mix of the glamorous, the sexy, the tomboy, and the butch. Honestly I never saw anything quite like it and for some reason it made me feel proud. The world may be changing but it was nice to see this little piece of it carved out of it for us. I may never set foot in the place again but it's nice to know it's there.

One thing I didn't find out till later was that the building is supposedly one of the most haunted spots in New York. Maybe that was where my strange feeling was coming from all along.

Observations from the Window 1.4

Now that the truths and holidays are gone I don’t know what to write so I think it is time to get back to writing whatever seems to be on mind. Off the top of my head is the fact that I look out the window the Village is just an ugly grey. This time of year the sun seems to take forever to reach into the canyons so the lighting is just a dull grey that matches the color of the snow now. It doesn’t make me want to jump out the door with a big smile on my face but a third cup of coffee might help with that. Well it can’t hurt.

Sometimes it’s amazing how you can find a lost love in a totally unexpected place. I have said before how much I love to read, how I used to devour books. I got away from that over the years not so much because I didn’t want to read but because I have my fingers in so many things I just didn’t have the time. Over Christmas I watched the movie “Angels and Demons” with my brother. Not a bad movie at all but not anywhere near as good as “The Da Vinci Code” however that doesn’t matter here. This past weekend I was home again and my dad had a copy of Dan Brown’s “The Lost Symbol” sitting on a table. I picked it up just to occupy my mind and ended up reading all 700 pages in just a few days. I never would have looked at the book on Amazon or in a bookstore but I loved it, devoured it. Now I have no clue what to read but I really don’t want to let that feeling get away. I also have to figure out how I’m going to get this book back to my dad before he realizes it’s missing.

In a totally related matter Snooki’s book is being released today but “A Shore Thing” is one book I know I won’t be reading. Not even if somebody ties my down with my feet over a fire. If this isn’t a sign that the end of the world is upon us I have no idea what is. My New Years wish was for that the faux crystal ball holding her in Sea Side Heights to fall crashing to the beach. Not that I wanted to see her hurt but it would have been totally cool to see that ball rolling down the beach with her in it. From what I know about the Jersey shore I think I’m safe in saying the residents of SSH would have enjoyed it just as much as I would have.

Than there is Lady Gaga who tweeted a photo of her ass to accompany the announcement of the release date of her new album and I totally missed it. I even saw the tweet originally but didn’t look until I was asked about it by a friend. All I can say is if the album is anywhere near as sweet as her ass she has another hit. I can’t believe I just wrote that!

And so blog year two begins with a bundle of randomness that I doubt anybody wants to read but I have to start somewhere and I'm still trying to purge the truths from my brain. That and ESPN has yet to call so now I'm shooting for Michael Musto’s job at the Village Voice.

Life goes on ....

My Chemical Romance - Na Na Na

Happy New Year 1.1.11

I started this blog just over a year ago when I first moved to the Village. A friend of mine had suggested I start one as a sort of stress relief project. Years ago I had written in a journal for just that reason so it seemed like a good idea to me. At the time I had no idea that a year later I would be writing my 240th post. In fact if somebody would have told me that I would be I would have sworn they were as insane as I am. Still here I am doing just that.

So much has changed in the past year. In my life, the lives of my friends, my family, and the world I live in. Not the least of which is the fact that a year ago I was a very secretive person who held her emotions tight. Now, if you have been reading, you know as much about me as but few did a year ago. Always the enigma I do loath change yet I seem to thrive on it. I'm a creature of habit but also a person that is never truly satisfied and I constantly seem to be looking for something even if I'm not quite sure what it is.

Psykhe was the ancient Greek goddess of the soul whose story the saying 'wandering soul' is loosely derived from. In the end that might be the perfect description of me. I might be happy in the moment, and right now how could I not be, but deep down I am a wanderer. Time marches forever onward and with it my soul seems to wander on ahead always tugging me on to the next stop, wherever that might be. But I have a pretty good idea.

Bonne et heureuse nouvelle année à tous!

John Lennon - Imagine

This blog has been more fun than I ever dreamed it would be. In a perfect world somebody out there has enjoyed it as much as I have but truthfully I wouldn't know why. Yet if you have enjoyed it thanks so much for reading. Hopefully year two, another year of change, will be just as much fun as the last.

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

William Shakespeare
Macbeth Act 5, scene 5, 19–28