the sacred answer

Cherry blossoms across the road. Photo taken 4/20/06.


Andrea's May 1 blog entry is quite inspiring. In it she describes a game she plays in which she meditates on a question about something which she really needs divine guidance on, and then she opens a dictionary for the answer. It's a takeoff on something people for centuries have done with the Bible. In this wonderful entry Andrea explains how this very method led her to work for the famous and eternally delightful Sark. (Who, btw, is NOT the blond bloke in Alias.)

So I said why not. It's 6:29 in the evening. I can either try this or watch a Will and Grace rerun.

Here was my question to the dictionary: "What am I supposed to do with my writing, Mother God?" (Mother God being my personal name for the Divinity. I refuse to acknowledge the Lord as just male.)

With my eyes closed, I touched the cover of my Webster's 10th edition (aka the definitive source for all copy editors and proofreaders). I thanked the book for whatever answer it was about to give me. Do I publish or perish? Was it a total waste that I quit my job for it? Do I have any talent? What am I supposed to do with all that I've produced, most of which have never seen the light of day? What am I supposed to do with all this intention, this impractical dedication, this belief in something I can't fully justify?

With eyes still closed I opened the book. I felt around for what my intuition was telling me. Go to the left page or the right page? My instinct said right. Go to the inner edge or the outer edge of the page? Inner edge, said the feeling. Somewhere in the middle of the page.

My forefinger landed on an area. I opened my eyes.

The word was "railroad." My heart sank. My immediate thought was its negative usage: To railroad somebody. "My manager railroaded me," "If you want to get rid of that employee, you should just railroad them," etc. I thought, what was I supposed to do, railroad my writing? (i.e., junk it, trash it. Obliterate it.)

Then I thought, maybe I'm supposed to put the pieces together, like locomotive cars. So I began reading, envisioning my writing to be like a road. You know, a railroad.

And that was when the Angel smacked me upside the head. Stubborn, stubborn child, someone seemed to be saying. Look. Look at the page.

For my finger was pointing at railroad as a verb, not the noun. The verb railroad has 3 varying definitions. And where my fingernail was pointing, in fact even underlining, was this definition: "1 b: to push through hastily or without due consideration."

An earthquake could have happened right then and there, with thunder rolling, the skies darkening, and I wouldn't be one bit surprised.

For that was when I understood. Don't mess around anymore, the Universe said. Stop doubting. Stop f--ing around. Do it, get it done. This is your job. It is not your place to bog things down with worry.

Just push your writing through hastily, and without due consideration.

our quagmire

Joining the thousands in today's peace rally in downtown Manhattan. I had thought I was just going to take pictures but I ended up marching along with everybody else. Photos taken 4/29/06.

safety

Kayla and Lolo (grandpa). Photo taken 12/24/05.


Even though this shot is nowhere near decent (you can't even see my dad's face, and forget about his hands), there's something about this picture that appeals to me. It captures how perfectly content Kayla gets around her grandpa.

And I remember the scene very well. It was the evening of Christmas Eve -- Kayla was so tired and miserable from the exhaustion of opening presents and having people around all day, and the only person who could calm her down was my dad. I think this night photo captures their relationship pretty well (the blurriness notwithstanding), and also how Kayla really is when she is with her own thoughts.

fact is stranger than fiction

sand shark exposed. Cape May - photo taken 7/7/05.


On the first day of my writing class my teacher walked in, introduced himself, and said, "While I get my papers ready I'd like you to do the following. Write one sentence, just one, about something extraordinary about yourself or that actually happened in your life."

We wrote. Then he said, "OK. Now, write another sentence, just one, that is extraordinary about you or that happened to you. But this time, it's completely untrue. The important thing is it has to be just as believable as the previous statement you just wrote." He added, "And by the way, this isn't a test. It's just a way for me to stall so I can get ready."

A few minutes later he said, "OK, let's all go around the room, say our names, and then each of us read both sentences. And don't tell us which is true and which is made up. The rest of us will take a vote on which we think is which."

I liked him immediately. It was such a clever way to get to know each other without having to do the whole "tell me about yourself and what you do" ice-breaker rigmarole.

What my classmates came up with were delightful. One was a bitch in a military prison, one slept with her best friend's father when she was 17, one climbed up the highest peak in Nepal, one was arrested for kidnapping, etc. I won't tell you which was fact and which was fiction. I'm a lot of things, but I ain't no creative writing snitch.

Here are the two sentences I wrote:
1. I quit my full-time job to live by myself everyday in the suburbs and give myself the chance to become a real writer.
2. I was the only one in my group to win a full scholarship to the Culinary Institute.

My teacher said, "I hope to god the first one isn't true." (At this point I was like, I LOVE THIS MAN!) He raised his hand. "I vote the second one is true," he said. "Who's with me?"

Three-fourths of the class raised their hands. Only two people raised their hands for the first sentence. I told him my answer. (Here Teaneck T interjects: If you don't know which of my two sentences are true, you have no business reading this photoblog.)

My teacher looked stunned for a second. Then he said, "Let's try to make this a good class for you." I said, laughing, "No, no, I don't want that kind of pressure on either of us."

The rest of the class went smoothly. High-octane, pure unleaded gasoline, as I'd like to describe it. The whole evening I kept thinking, Hooray for stupid moves! Hooray for cliff-jumpers worldwide!!!

NYC reflections

34th Street as reflected by the Manhattan Mall. Photo taken 2/17/06.


"New York City / such a beautiful disease." Often when I walk around the city I find myself humming that Norah Jones and Peter Malick song.

Here's a New York story for you. True story. Happened not long ago, in fact.

Last month while waiting to get on the downtown R train that had started pulling up at Times Square, I noticed that one car passing by was devoid of people, which would have been surprising given how all the other cars before it were crowded enough to even have passengers standing. But I, like any veteran New Yorker, knew immediately why, without needing to see the rest of that empty car. Sure enough when its rear passed me I saw what I deduced all along: There at one of the last benches slumped a homeless man, hands tucked inside his coat pockets, his head bent to his chest in deep sleep. And I, like all the others standing on the ramp, knew not to get inside that car. The air would be rank, fetid. Without having to test my own nose, I knew that the man smelled so bad that no one else would ride with him.

The passengers who got on the adjacent car with me were the chattier type than, say, the more tight-lipped, newspaper-reading crowds of rush hour. This was, after all, 1:30 in the afternoon. Two young Japanese women stood in front of me, giggling uproariously as they spoke in their language. One of them kept putting a finger across the bottom of her nose, and on they would laugh and banter again. A woman two seats away was muttering about how she "knew what it was all about." "Hmm-mm-mmm," she said, shaking her head. She sounded like she caught a kid in the midst of mischief.

A man wearing a long wool coat and a ski hat stood in front of her. He seemed to have been saying something to her already, but this time I caught the beginning of a story. "I was on the Bronx train one night, and there was a homeless man there who smelled so bad. I'm sure he smelled just as bad as the one here," he said, pointing his chin to the train car ahead of us.

"There was only him, me, this shifty looking guy, and this woman," he said. "The train kept going, just the four of us. When the train was pulling into Manhattan, the shifty looking guy grabs the woman's purse and makes a run for the door that was about to open.

"And then the homeless guy, who I thought was asleep -- and, man, this guy stank -- he jumped up. He just jumped. He jumped in front of this guy, and then he pins him to the ground and right then there handcuffs him.

"It was unbelievable," the man said. "You should have seen that other guy's face. You just never know about these undercover people.

"I couldn't believe it," he continued. "I couldn't believe that some of these homeless guys are undercover. So what I'm saying is, it could be any of them."

I didn't hear what the woman said in response. I think they moved on to a new topic. But I sat there amazed. Here was New York, an incredible, potent gift that is just waiting for me on the days I will myself to step out of the house.

I got off at Union Square and walked towards the southern end of the ramp, the same direction as where the almost-empty car was. The doors began closing and the train was starting to pull away when a noxious odor slammed me so hard that I flinched, my eyes almost watering from the smell. It was coming from the train car in question. Its doors were already closing when I came near it, so the most I got was five inches of its air before it sealed shut and the train moved on. I kept walking, thinking of the man inside. I just thought of him for a few more minutes, without pity or repulsion.

heaven and earth are full of your glory

Steeple of the Lutheran church down the hill from us. Beautiful church, crazy slogans. Here's one unforgettable zinger: Giving a little nod to the Dairy Queen a few blocks down, one banner read, "Why buy a sundae? All you need is a Son-day." Who needs television when you've got reading material like these in your neighborhood? Photo taken 2/19/06.


Happy Easter, everyone!

Agnus Dei
qui tollis peccata mundi
dona nobis pacem

hiatus redux, ad interim

Field of tulips in the middle of Park Avenue. Photo taken 4/29/05.


I've been busy, I've been sick, and I've been distracted. But naptime is over. It's time to bloom again.

when the fog lifts

Kalalau Valley, Kauai. Photo taken 9/29/05.


Mountains are inside me
boulders are inside me
Terrains and snow trails and
wide vistas are inside me.

- diary entry 7/24/00,
after meditation

breathe. beauty exists.

Teaneck sky. Photo taken 1/24/06.


"I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind."

- Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

hope

Central Park, 4/29/05

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Mom and me pretending to be NYC tourists at Rockefeller Center last holiday season. Photo taken by another (genuine) tourist on 12/28/05.


Happy Birthday, our ever-loving-and-loved Mom! I wish you much healing ASAP on your birthday. Mi pobrecita Mamamia fell two weeks ago and landed a huge welting bruise on her chest, which happens to be right on her heart chakra. Yow! Let's all send her love. Her heart chakra can sure use some TLC.

And I sure do love you very much, my wonderful, fragile Mommy.

Happy Anniversary, A&E!

My father-in-law and stepmom-in-law posing in their old apartment in Oak Park, IL. Photo taken September 1995.


Happy anniversary, Arthur & Elizabeth! Don't fall off your chairs in shock that I remembered. I now keep a calendar! And I actually look at it!

Finale. Free at last.

Ate and 21-month-old Kayla on 1/22/06.


Never, NEVER ever again will I pull a crazy mind-numbing stunt like a 21-day theme of one person, place, or object. I love the kid but this was ridiculous. Two days after I made the grand announcement of 21 days of Kayla, the great procrastination freeze-out came. Everytime I thought of posting something on this blog I went ahead and did something else in the kitchen or put another DVD on. You would think this was about making dental appointments. This photoblog, once a silly and amusing and fun toy to play with, transformed into a term-paper deadline for a class I hated. I bemoaned to some friends, "Why, oh why did I ever come up with this theme???"

So it took me more like 41 days rather than 21 days to make this happen. Oh, well. Now it's over. I'm amazed that we actually took photos of this beloved child every single frickin month of her existence. We are such shameless family paparazzis.

Free at last, free at last, thank god almighty this p-blog is free at last!

I'm so giddy from this thought that I might do away with themes for the time being. Let's see where this project next leads me to.

Day 21 of 21 = Kayla at 20 months

Presents-opening madness of Christmas 2005. All were for Kayla, of course. Note here that Mike is taping ribbons on Kayla's back. Also check out how Tito Lito (right edge) now has a ribbon tied around his head. Madness, I tell ya. Photo taken Christmas Eve 2005.

Day 20 of 21 = Kayla at 19 months

This was such a crazy hat. Imagine a little toddler less than 3 feet tall walking around with a huge hat like this. It was a present from Auntie Vil in the Philippines. Mike said Kayla looks like someone from mortal combat. Photo taken Thanksgiving (November 24) 2005. And is that a rosary she's carrying??

Day 19 of 21 = Kayla at 18 months

Halloween 2005. Photo taken by Cookie on 10/27/05.

Day 18 of 21 = Kayla at 17 months

Who the heck watches TV like that? Isn't this a yoga pose? Photo taken 9/25/05 by one of her parents.

Day 17 of 21 = Kayla at 16 months

Kayla has fun with her little blanket costume. Photo taken by Cookie on 8/19/05.

Day 16 of 21 = Kayla at 15 months

Mom and Dad with the love of their life during a family vacation in Cape May last summer. I swear these two are the most devoted grandparents I've ever seen. Photo taken 7/7/05.

Day 15 of 21 = Kayla at 14 months

Summer snack at her kiddie pool on 6/26/05.

Day 14 of 21 = Kayla at 13 months

Cookie and Kayla on Mother's Day (May 8) 2005. Now here she's got a full set of teeth. See the difference?

Day 13 of 21 = Kayla at 12 months

Interesting to see how green the grass is here when this is the same exact site as three entries ago (see Jan 2005 photo of Kayla's first snow). And Kayla looks much older here too. Now she has three front lower teeth! (see below). OK, from hereon I'll stop with the dentistry. Photo taken by one of her parents on 4/17/05.

Day 12 of 21 = Kayla at 11 months

Again, compare this picture against the previous entry and the one taken on Christmas 2004. Here she now has two big upper teeth. How the heck did they get there so soon? They're pretty big for something that develops in a month. See below for a close-up version. The human body never ceases to amaze me.

Next to Kayla is the ever-wonderful Barney boy. Photo taken by Cookie on 3/2/05.

By the way, Kayla's impish smile can also be found in old childhood pictures of Ate and Cookie. The same exact grin and squint. It's quite uncanny. Doesn't apply to me, though -- I have no pictures of me grinning this much as a kid. Ain't that a can of worms that will never be opened.

Day 11 of 21 = Kayla at 10 months

Kayla gets her studio portraits done. Is it me or she had a major growth spurt here? Compare this pix against the previous 2-3 photoblog entries. She doesn't look like a baby here at all but a mid-sized toddler. Photo taken Feb 2005 by the studio photographer.

Day 10 of 21 = Kayla at 9 months

I still remember that Saturday night in January 2005 when it snowed nonstop the entire evening. We spent the blizzard snug inside Mike and Cookie's house watching season 1 of Alias. By the time the snow stopped the next morning over a foot had accumulated, which made it Kayla's first official snowfall. She played outside for a bit and enjoyed every minute of it (the kid loves water), but really her parents wanted the photo op. She looks like a little stuffed animal here. Mike (black gloves at the bottom) is the one holding her steady. I love how the fuschia of her winter onesie contrasts against the white snow. Photo taken by Cookie on 1/23/05.

Day 9 of 21 = Kayla at 8 months

Santa baby on her first Christmas. The two front teeth peeking out kills me. Photo taken on Christmas morning during the opening of Kayla's dozens o' presents. Photographer unknown, though I'm guessing it was Mike.

Day 8 of 21 = Kayla at 7 months

Now THIS is what I call healthy mirror work. "To know me is to wanna kiss me!" seems to be the Kayla motto. Her Lola (Tagalog for grandma, aka my Mom) holds up the self-loving baby. Photo taken on Thanksgiving 2004 (11/26/04). Photographer unknown.

Day 7 of 21 = Kayla at 6 months

Court Jester baby on Halloween 2004. Photo taken by one of her parents.

Day 6 of 21 = Kayla at 5 months

5-month-old Kayla performs some baby acrobatics for her proud daddy. Hey, when was the last time you can do a trick like that? Photo taken on 9/5/04 by Cookie.

Day 5 of 21 = Kayla at 4 months

Um, yeah, you could say that 4-month-old Kayla had absolutely no problems being in a swimming pool for the first time in her life. She loved the pool so much that she was furious when Mom Cookie finally had to take her out when her lips started turning blue from being too cold. Kayla howled and made these weird baby blubbering sounds that really sounded like she was cursing us out. Photo taken 8/28/04 at our cousin Melina's house in South Jersey.

Day 4 of 21 = Kayla at 3 months

This is one of my all-time favorite pictures of Kayla, and maybe even of anyone. I see this smiling baby as the personification of the happy Buddha, and I'm referring to her spirit more than I am to her roundness (although it's that, too). This really is a great shot. Photo taken by Mike on 7/5/04 at their house.

Day 3 of 21 = Kayla at 2 months

2-month-old Kayla on Father's Day 2004 (July 16). Photographer unknown. I wonder who she was smiling at here.

Day 2 of 21 = Kayla at 1 month

Kayla and her Mommy. Photo taken by (Daddy) Mike on 5/9/04, which was Mother's Day. That year was Cookie's first.

Theme: 21 Days of Kayla

Kayla at zero months. She is only two days old here, and had just come home from the hospital. Photo taken 4/3/04 by Dina.


OK, folks. If you want to see the unfolding of a beautiful human being from newborn to little girl, then stay tuned for the next 21 days. If you'd rather see landscape pictures or at least anything but pictures of the same (though changing!) person, then tune back after February 7.

Kayla, aka The Favorite, is currently 21 months old. Say, what if I post a picture of Kayla of every month of her life to date? It will be like flipping through those illustrated books real quick to see the figures move. She's a baby, then her face is changing, and now she has teeth, and then she's running, and then... look! Here she is driving a Toyota!

Come to think of it, this little mini project can actually be expanded into something universal. I'm 33 years old. What if I see the next 33 days as a daily year of my life so far? (i.e., on the fourth day I think back to when I was 4 years old, on the 17th day I think back to when I was 17 years old, etc.) If you're 45, you've got the next forty-five days of year-to-year introspection. If you're 65, well, then, you've got a lot more days of look-back thinking than everybody else.

Makes sense? I think it's a neat concept. It's a way of guiding your interior self to align with your chronological age, and, more importantly, to say farewell to each year of your life and all the things that happened to you that year once that allocated day has ended.

Well anyway. 21 days of Kayla, one for each month of her wonderful life so far. Hope you enjoy the show.

Pax and me on Christmas Eve, 1993 in my old bedroom. What the heck kind of crazy dress was I wearing?? Photo taken by either Ariel or cousin Mike B.


Being perfectly loved just the way you are.

Grace, Erin, Pam, Frances, me. Gathering for Fran when she visited NY in October 2001. Photo taken by David.


The preciousness of friends.

Statue of Mother Mary at the yard of the National Shrine of The Divine Mercy (Lenox, MA). Photo taken Feb or March 2002.


Having faith, and standing by what it reveals to you.

Me during a hike in Bandelier National Monument, New Mexico. In January 1999 I decided to leave everything behind and go on a self-imposed retreat at my friend Trish's home in the Sangre de Cristo mountains outside of Santa Fe. I was supposed to stay 4-6 weeks. I ended up coming home after 2 weeks. I learned the age-old lesson that you can't run away from your own mind. Besides, I missed Lorin too much. Photo taken by Trish.


Listening to oneself.

This week's theme: stuff I've been thinking about lately

Masks shop in Venice, Italy. Photo taken September 2001.


Uncovering the truth.

Shakyamuni Buddha on our mantel awash in morning light. Photo taken 3/31/05.


May the New Year bring us courage, wisdom, and peace.

L&T = Best Friends 4Ever. Photo taken by Trish at SUNY Binghamton, Spring 1993.


May the New Year bring us love and friendship.

Bellissima Firenze! View of Florence taken September 2001.


May the New Year bring us beauty and gratitude.

Me experimenting with mirror surfaces after being inspired by the Mirror Project. It was only when I found this autobio picture today that I realized I also captured some major elements I wish to manifest (money! luck! sweetness! food! ice cream!). Photo of this diner window on the Upper East Side taken on 4/29/05.


May the New Year bring us creativity and growth.

cherry blossoms in Central Park. Photo taken 4/29/05.


May the New Year bring us abundance and wealth.

Kayla. Photo taken by Mike 9/14/05.


May the New Year bring us joy and laughter.

Happy New Year, everybody!

Full rainbow circle over Waimea Canyons, Kauai (Hawaii). I didn't have enough of a wide lens to capture the full arc. Photo taken 9/29/05.


Prayer for the New Year

We begin.
May the New Year bring us healing and wholeness.