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?