what IS self-expression, anyway?

Mirror in antique shop display, Elizabeth Street.

Why I like this self-portrait:
The picture was obtained through my eyes, through the lens, through the shop window, onto a mirror that then reflected back the window bars; my camera; me; the sunlight striking the building behind me; and its windows which happen to have some its shades drawn, some partly drawn, and some shut.

If that isn't a metaphor for the layers involved when perceiving and expressing life, I don't know what is. What further drives the metaphor home is that when I took this shot I wasn't thinking of any of this. I just liked the mirror on display and what it might do as a photo. So much happens without thought. Much of what is seen comes after the fact, only upon reflection.

the version Steve Tyler did not approve

[video now offline]


The sole reason I am posting this here is because I really want Cookie to hear this because she's the inspiration behind all this, and neither youtube, Google, nor Facebook are options for her.

So here's Teaneck T unplugged -- in a public blog. Hope it's not cringe-inducing.

Jersey Street, I think. (off Mulberry Street, east Soho) Photo taken Apr 2008.

Birthday love

Manhattan Bridge as seen from the Tobacco Warehouse at Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park (DUMBO). Photo taken March 2008.


In honor of my birthday next week, we're off to a place that pretty much says it all: Mt. Desert Island.

And in honor of my birthday next week, I'm sharing here one of the photos dearest to me. It's precious for several reasons. The main one is that cameras are not allowed in this site (the abandoned Tobacco Warehouse) without a special photo license obtained through some government agency. I got away with taking the above shot because I chatted up the head grounds guy and nicely asked him to make an exception with me. (I explained that the photos are for my family who has never been there, that I grew up in Staten Island and am traveling in from Jersey, etc. etc.) Green lights for Teaneck T, with a smile. Turns out he's from Staten Island too.

After taking this photo I then ended up talking to more park workers there. It was a nice day, I was all mellow and happy capturing different angles with my camera, and the fellows were curious about me. The guy on the left (above) ended up giving me the most helpful tips of where to go in Dumbo to get my Manhattan-Bridge-in-between-buildings shots, two of which I've already posted on 3/16/08.

That was a day when I spontaneously decided to go to a new neighborhood and explore it by myself with no aim but to be open to the wonder of it. My March 16, 2008 photoblog entry was borne out of that trip.

The older I get, the more I am determined to keep creating experiences of inspiration and gratefulness like I did that day. I wish to grow old beautifully, to be open to people's friendliness and their help, and to be fearless in my solitude. I wish to live the years gaining access where access is not automatically given without effort, and certainly without heart.

exhibitionism

I can't remember what street this was on. Could it be Kenmare Street? Spring Street? I really should start taking notes. Photo taken Apr 2008.


So, yeah.... I wasn't on Flickr after all (per previous entry). I wasn't online much for sundry reasons.

I met a hardcore amateur photographer last night at a party whose camera was large enough to launch a missile. I asked him if he was on Flickr or iStock. He said, "I'm not much of an exhibitionist. I share my photos with friends but only if it's of them." So he takes all these photos but only he sees them. That's true love. I asked myself if I could ever be that way -- that is, fully devote myself to something without any audience or target beyond one's own self-imposed benchmark(s). And it was then that I realized I just struck on a major element missing in my own endeavors all these years. It's not like I never had that mindset; it's that I've never kept to that mindset for very long.

I didn't walk away thinking, "oh, he's the real deal and I'm not." A year or so ago I would have thought that, but one advantage of aging is that you start automatically being kinder to yourself. I did think that he's got his methods of spreading the (artist) love, and I do too. Except I'm still not sure what my methods are. Even aging has not spared me from the murkiness of my ever-changing convictions.

Go, New York

View from 7 train platform, Queens.


If I disappear from this site for a while that means I'm busy partying in Flickr, where I'm the baby sea horse watching the blue whales glide by. The two times one of my photos got marked as a favorite by strangers I was like, "yippee!" (think high-toned yelp here). Never mind that the hardcore Flickr pros are getting hundreds of views and dozens of invites to join exclusive groups. I'm like the scullery maid witnessing her first soiree from the kitchen entrance.

Teaneck woods

Teaneck, or home sweet home. Photos taken this morning.


Had a hard time getting deep sleep last night. I took advantage by taking a very early morning walk in the woods by me, and saw the forest starting to blossom.

In my humble opinion (IMHO, in e-talk), one of the richest experiences in life is have the woods all to yourself in the early morning and hearing nothing but dozens of bird calls echoing through the trees. We are so blessed to have our Teaneck home. I get to have morning walks like this while still being able to have my love affair with NYC less than half an hour away.

More photos of my walk here. I'm back to posting collections in Flickr. (The old guy appeared after about an hour of my being there. He greeted me but kept right on walking.)

Kayla the cartographer

Kayla, now age 4, with her favorite birthday presents. Photo taken at her birthday party, April 2008.


This past weekend was Kayla's birthday party. Kayla loved the digital camera I gave her, as well as the globe that she got from Ate. She had asked for both. Word was she went ape shit at Barnes & Noble when she first laid eyes on the globe and had said to Ate, "It's a deal, okay? You will get me this for my birthday?" She first played with the camera, taking pictures of her bear, her dolls, her pillow, even her blanket.

Later she put the camera aside and spun the globe round and round, asking me what this yellow country or that large green country was called. She asked if there were people living in Alaska or if there were just polar bears living in igloos. When I pointed out South America she jumped up off the floor, clapped her hands once, and said that big, big snakes called anacondas lived in South America. (Where does she get these facts? What TV shows does she watch?)

Everytime she pointed to a country near Greenland she asked if it was cold there, for I had told her that Greenland is a very cold place. I showed her that the blue strip running along the bulge was called the equator, and that the farther away you get from it the colder it got. She then pointed to Iran and asked if people are hot there. I nodded, wondering if this girl really might be a genius.

Then she pointed to another country further north, asking what it was called. When I told her it's called Norway she said, "Whaaat??" She was all incredulous, as if a country ought not be called that. This was when I realized that she wasn't a genius. She was just a vibrant, highly curious, very intelligent, exuberant little girl, which is far more preferrable and infinitely more delightful.

Other countries' names that made her eyes bulge out and go, "whaat??!" are Kazakhstan, Papua New Guinea, and Mongolia. She kept going back to Canada -- perhaps the large land mass fascinated her -- and she also kept asking me to show her where her dad is when he goes to London.

She wasn't interested when I explained that all that blue she was seeing was water. She was, however, very much interested in the North Pole and asked if Santa Claus lived there. When I showed her where it was she then asked me to point out New Jersey again.

That was when she said, "Santa Claus knows where I live?" Her tone when she said that wasn't that far off from the "whaat??!" she kept screeching earlier. I said yes, he knows where she and all children live.

Kayla looked at the globe again, tapping the North Pole region. She seemed to be thinking things through. For a moment she stopped asking questions. I was quiet with her, but I was smiling. I was thinking that maybe the girl might be a genius after all.

oh, I get it. I'm creepy, too!

Stealth photo-taking at the Strand. Photo taken Mar 2008.


One of my more recent Eureka realizations is this concept, or rather this pattern, where you attract into your life the very thing you don't want to see about yourself. Finding yourself frequently annoyed by rude people? Chances are that you are rude yourself but don't see it at all. People are always not coming through for you? Do you perhaps let people down in ways that you don't admit to or see as that? You get the idea. This is life's way of making you come to terms with things about yourself. It is only when you accept this trait you've been denying will these people stop having a charge on you. I have recently found this to be very true for myself and have officially included this principle as one of the governing laws On How Things Work.

So when a recent rash of what Lorin calls "creepos" popped up in my Facebook life, thus giving me a very bad Facebook buzz-kill, I started asking myself why this is happening suddenly now, within days of each other. Why are these guys who I barely knew 10+ years ago tapping me and wanting me to be their "friend," in a manner I find suspicious and unnerving? Then again my paranoia is partly explained by the fact that when I was 14 years old, I met a guy at a party and spoke to him briefly.... and out of that one night the guy phoned my parents' house on and off wanting to speak to me from the time I was 14 all the way through the month before I married Lorin at the age of 23. Ridiculous but true nevertheless. The guy even asked questions like, "Were you wearing a white skirt today? I think I saw you standing at a bus stop by the library on Victory Boulevard."

Creepos everywhere! What the bloody hell is going on?!

Then tonight, while going through photos I took last week, the Eureka moment hit. "Oh, I get it," said I to self. "I AM a creep!"

Here's what I saw: I take photos of strangers in bookstores and everywhere else during their unguarded moments. I don't ask for their permission, and I do it quick, slam, bam, then I put my camera away. And I post these photos, or at least posted one of them now. (ta da!) Those I haven't posted reside in my computer, waiting to be archived.

Also, two months ago I was obsessed with Facebook. Those of you who read this p-blog know how stupid I got. And what exactly was I doing in FB?? I was snooping, of course! I was checking out people's walls, who wrote what to whom, what they are doing now, what their jobs are, blah blah blah. Of course it can be argued that this is what people do in social websites and is thus considered acceptable behavior, but that's really not who I am. I don't even Google people I know without getting their permission first. Nevertheless there I was, Girl Creepola from Teaneck, checking out what group so-and-so joined and what their spouses look like. Gee-zus!

Lastly -- and this one came popping up in the clearing of my consciousness as soon as I started to sit back and watch the discoveries unfold -- I am online way too much. I email friends as quickly as my 70wpm typing speed can allow, with no censorship of my interior monologue what-soever. I forward emails and send out mass emails of my musings at least once a week to two weeks, and I have these photoblog entries that I update at the new rate of at least twice a week. I went from no one knowing where the hell I am to everyone being able to know exactly what I did at 2pm on Wednesday.

What the f**ck is right. I saw what I've been doing and thought, "Yikes. I really do have an inner creep."

So I get it. I totally got it tonight. It was a real eye-opener. And just like that, I felt compassion for the two blokes that gave me the heeby geebies in Facebook. I sure as hell still ain't pressing that "accept friend request" button, but I now know that I'm not above them in any way. I too, it turns out, just wanted to be noticed by the people whom I wanted to like me.

"Slow down / you move too fast / you've got to make the morning last..."

Queensborough Bridge (also known as the 59th St. Bridge). Photo taken Mar 2008.


I couldn't find a couple who would be willing to pose for me to mimic the famous Woody Allen shot from his movie Manhattan, so this shot will have to do.

Besides, I was "looking for fun and feelin' groovy" regardless. Badump-bump. OK, that was corny, but I don't care. (See the Simon & Garfunkel song if you're baffled by my reference.)

this photo newbie still has so much to learn

Celtic musicians at the Brass Monkey Bar. Photo taken 3/16/08.


This is what teetotalers do when others are guzzling up. They take pictures of musicians and wonder how other photographers make dark photos look like Rembrandt paintings.

Upper West Side. Photo taken Feb 2008. I've no idea what kind of bird this is.


Strelecktomyacin, if you're reading this entry I have a li'l gift for you: It's called a walk down memory lane. There's a sentence there that gave me pause. The author writes, "I was amazed to see that every building on the west side of 6th between 29th and 31st was gone..."

I read that and was like, "Hmmm, interesting how that was exactly my wish during my lunch hours in every calendar day of 2004...." Bitter, anyone?

Midtown. Photo taken Mar 2008.

ghost town

Vinegar Hill. Orig photo taken March 2008; sepia cast applied.


I'll admit something here about that day a few weeks ago when I walked around in Dumbo and its adjacent neighborhood called Vinegar Hill: I couldn't bring myself to take photos of the latter. Everytime I raised my camera to take a picture of some of the old houses, many of which look exactly as they did in the mid-19th century, something in me told me put my camera down.

Here's the kicker: The last time I got that feeling was when I tried to take a photo of the upper windows of a townhouse on Gay Street (in the Village). I was so weirded out by that voice that told me to stop, that when I went home I looked up that address and discovered that it was one the most haunted places in New York City. I kid you not. You can find out more about that freaky-deaky place here. And I truly did not know about its history until after I walked away from that place.

Then again, when I was a teenager my sisters and I pulled up onto the house some family friends had just moved into, and I leaned forward and pointed to the top right window. "There's a ghost in that room," I said. Ate and Cookie were like, "Shut the f-- up, don't say that." True enough, that night they were all telling stories and the host started telling anecdotes of how her daughter kept complaining that someone was in her bedroom and wouldn't let her sleep. The daughter's bedroom was that same room I had pointed out earlier.

Any-whooo.... back to Vinegar Hill. It is rich with old history and the place looks abandoned by time. The only thing there besides the old houses and cobblestone streets is the Con Edison plant. You can learn more about it here.

Now why am I writing all this at 2:30 in the morning? What is compelling me to write this entry? Cue in the Twilight Zone music, please.


(Note to Ats, aka Judge Connie: OK, I can so see you freaking out as you read this. Not to worry. I am safe. We all are. I am protected by many guardian angels and creatures of Light. See previous entry for proof.)

little gifts, seen or not seen

Bethesda Fountain angel, Central Park. Photo taken Feb 2008. I stood on tiptoes on a park bench on the street level above and then zoomed down to get this shot.


This entry is a little gift for Angel Amy, who celebrates her birthday today. She doesn't visit this site unless specifically asked, so chances are she'll never see that I posted this for her.

I like that I'm dedicating this entry to her and it will go unnoticed. Such is the nature of unconditional love, and it is precisely Amy who has taught me, just by being who she is, how freeing it is to keep giving of oneself and not expecting anything in return.

how to have a date with yourself

Manhattan Bridge as seen from Washington Street (Dumbo, Brooklyn). Photo taken March 2007. More photos to come.


1. Begin the day psyching yourself up to tackle your to-do list, which includes catching up on laundry, dishwashing, dusting, and paying bills.

2. Recharge your camera instead. Think of an image within commuting distance you've never been to before. Surf the web for decent maps of that neighborhood. Jot down recommended places to eat. Put on your sneakers.

3. Walk out the door with camera, iPod, ATM card, bus pass, and a magazine to read in case you find yourself on a park bench. Do not bring your cell phone. If you can't leave without it, bring it but turn it off. Leave home your day-to-day bag brimming with crap you don't need.

4. When you arrive at your destination, do not refer to the map you've printed out unless you really have to. Relish in getting lost. Don't forget to hum to yourself.

5. Be utterly present within your body. Take a look around as though you're seeing everything for the first time. You in fact are. Even if you've been there before, the only reality is now, which means the person who saw those sights before is no longer you. If you're having a hard time seeing things without preconceived notions, pretend you have amnesia.

6. When you encounter people who want to talk to you during your walk, and you will, don't be afraid to engage in conversation. Old men, moms with children, tourists... everyone's got a question or a comment. Be compassionate. Loneliness is everywhere, and a few of them will turn out to say something that would be of real help to you. So talk. This rule does not apply to anyone who gives you the creeps. Be friendly, but don't be an idiot.

7. When you sit down for your meal, leave a big tip. Don't ever be cheap. Treat yourself like royalty, which means anyone who has dealings with you is just as blessed. If you end up getting your food at a place without waiter service such as a deli or a pizza joint, eat your food outdoors, on a park bench or stoop. Look up at the clouds while munching.

8. Be trigger happy with your camera. It is okay to take 20 shots of the same object. Who said you can't? Who's the boss of you? No one.

9. Give thanks every now and then. You don't have to say it out loud. Every hour or so, just think it. Say to your heart, say to the world, say to that flower or that fire hydrant, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

10. Let the world open itself. Or rather, let yourself open to it. Every time you're ready to see something beautiful, you most certainly will. It might not happen immediately. It might not even happen that day. But it will, especially with practice. That's a promise.

love of work

All photos taken during a single day (November 2006) in which I walked all over Central Park, all over the Met, and then come nightfall I then walked down 5th Avenue up to Times Square. Photos laid out in InDesign this evening.


I was doing some photo organizing and thought I would trash all the photos above, since they weren't really the kind of thing I'm dying to post. Then I thought, "aha, what if I laid them out like a postage sheet, sort of like what I saw in the Barbara Bloom exhibit today."

So I did. And I really loved doing it. It has been a long time since I enjoyed doing something where I lost all track of time, and I was just mesmerized watching the thing unfold in front of my keyboard. Working on it felt so good, and only afterwards did I realize that what I was feeling was joy.

Leeds Castle, UK.


I bet you $80,000 that Client No. 9 wouldn't mind hanging out in a place like this right now...

Rockefeller Park (near the new/current Stuy HS). Tom Otterness' sculptures.

silencio!

I'm in a non-explaining mood. I want to post photos, but I don't feel like saying where they're from. So until my mood changes, just enjoy these pics as is. Pretend they're coming from the great void in my head.

As a sort of sequitor, I recommend the movie "Into the Great Silence." It's about a bunch of monks in France (or is it Germany?) who have taken a vow of silence. The most wordless, dragging movie you'll ever see, devoid of plot, dialogue, or speed, and at first I was pressing that forward button like a fiend. But by the middle of it I was hooked, and by the end of it I wanted to make my own pirated copy.