Saturday, November 24, 2007

My First Video

I finally realized that there was a video function on our digital camera ... hello??

We are in NYC for an extended Thanksgiving holiday. It is in my mom's Greenwich Village apartment I learned the video function on our digital camera. I am so lame. I guess we all come full circle. Eventually.

This first memorable video is of my husband and my mom dancing to Cole Porter's "I Love Paris." Ella Fitzgerald's voice is just stunning and to embelish the blues, is the ensuing dialogue between Haim and my mom, and then there's little old me waving in the background waving copiously. How silly can one thirty seven year old get?

My mom has Alzheimer's and tonight, she became my mommy again for a brief while. Music is an amazing spiritual healer. Her face lit up like the Christmas tree I saw earlier this evening in Bryant Park. Wow.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

A Cloudy Day






Here I am, again at the library drafting out yet another clean sheet of paper for my book on early literacy education.

I left my suitcase of ideologies on a kibbutz just a few months ago – farmland territory under some nebulous looking cloud that frightened even a scarecrow but with lots of pansies to keep you dreaming. I love planting, weed work, watching the clouds move, eating fresh mint, but when those clouds on the other side of the Atlantic got too dark and a bit boring, I knew something was obviously wrong.

It all made of course even better sense when I boarded the plane, taking my redheaded son and husband with me to start afresh writing on the other side of the Atlantic, figuring out our next steps one day at a time.

It’s been raining on the Eastern coast, one straight pour after another and I had one of those flashbacks again…

“left, right, left, right… listening to the marching when I was in the Israeli army twenty years earlier. Hearing the soldiers march while in the bunk always makes you think about all sorts of strange things… and ideas… and ideals…

“left, right, left, right,” … like aunt roses’ clock twenty five years earlier in Far-Rockaway – quick flashback to the one thing I liked to do most – observing the big hand of the twelve and then my own small hand wondering which word I would write, if and where, and when??

When I was young, momma pulled me away from the waves afraid I would get sucked under by the current, I knew she meant years later when she said ‘ don’t go into the arts – ‘it’ll suck you dry.’

It’s always easier to stay close or be the closest one to the shore. Watch the dirty looking clouds. The rainy kinds ones I like the best. But even if you don’t cross your ‘I’ and dot your ‘t’s, at least you know you have to write whatever comes out and that perhaps has also made a difference.

The last page I left my t and I uncrossed, it looked unfinished but that made me feel perhaps a bit better. Oh and I keep on forgetting to bring my umbrella. But I guess that doesn’t count, does it?




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After a bit of a hiatus, I decided to send this post to the Write-Away contest at Michele's blog which I read fervently.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Thursday Thirteen - The Smaller But Important Things




Hopefully, I’ll be up to date with this post. Keeping a schedule of course, is another thing. Here goes:

I see the signs of modern life taking its toil everywhere: the fast and junk food, self-help groups, commercials for prescribed medications,.

Then there is the loneliness described by the faces of anxious and tired women: waiting on or for customers, talking at bus stops, some trying to make conversation. Or closed off from the (working) world, listening to itunes, ipods, whatever. I never knew how lonely it all could be – until now – and especially as a mom.


As adults, we get sucked in by our own thoughts. Almost like furnishing or designing a room – before the wallpaper, there’s the blue print – the rawness of emotion and love, not only with others but within yourself.


The small things in life are indeed free. I’m grateful to have come across most of these in my short lifetime.


Consider these options as useful practices in your daily creative life, as you create the residual yearning of mental, emotional, spiritual and social growth.

1. Write about it. Every so often, I’ll goad the pen (or computer) and dip into time. My characters provide me with the love. I just write about them. It all takes time since writing is also a process of maturity and maturation. Since fiction is lifting characters of my family and friends does not merely mean require writing about them , I wait until they give the love back to me. And they do; For this reason alone, I truly find the creative process therapeutic.



2. Finding the comfort in my husband and son. I spend many hours of the day alone. Writing. Sometimes I enter blank and dark and dusty and unfamiliar corners. I need to share. My husband and child are always there for me. A loving home provides a foundation. (can’t remember – must be from a quote??)

3. Looking through photo albums

4. Playing old videos and tapes. Recently I uncovered some of my mom’s old piano music. Since her Alzheimer’s, she hasn’t been able to play a single note, but the mazurkas remind me of those old ballerina dances when I twirled in front of a full length mirror.


5. Smiling at people – complete strangers. I’m not a smiley person. I keep everything hidden. Very well. However, I’m turning outward. Pittsburghians are a friendly bunch and it’s not hard to practice smiling. On them. NYC – forget it. Well, maybe not.


6. Call up an old friend or family member. Or send a beautiful Jacqui Lawson card. When I came back to the States after my 18 year hiatus from Israel (I visited Israel every few years or so), I immediately got back in touch with a few old friends I had not spoken to in years reminding me why I cared or respected them.



7. Visiting special places that have meaning of significance. For me two summers ago, this meant visiting my Dad’s old art studio atop one of the roofs where I grew up in Greenwich Village, Manhattan, USA. Out of eagerness and desperation to see what was still there after twenty years, I finally got the maintenance supervisor to open it only to find it full of shambles but the rusty ol’ chock-full-of nuts cans of bolts and screws were still there – as if they hadn’t left its twenty year positions.



8. Going through baby books. Reading the words of love. Finding the love and connection all over again. It’s a very meaningful experience.



9. Reading old books – especially children’s.



10. Say old jokes, songs, anecdotes, stories you remember as a child. The things I would do when I babysat years ago, I now do with my son. Coming full circle.



11. Listening to old albums (I still have an old 1970’s stereo system in my mom’s apartment)



12. Help an elderly or frail person – volunteering. (I plan to do this soon)



13. Love thy neighbor….write in your journal… exercise… whatever it takes to find the love again.



HAPPY TT EVERYONE!!

Friday, November 9, 2007

Moving Slowly

At 12:30 in the afternoon, I look at what I have written for the day. I'm afraid I haven't written much. Just a lot of rewrite, research and rewrite on my book project. It's a fully ambitious piece of writing much of it centered on my twelve years of teaching. Only I spend a lot of time moving from web page to another, kitchen, and chair again.

Nope, no writer's block. Just taking my time to feel the day, understand it so it can make sense for me. In essence, I am supposed to be on sabbatical and I'm young, but the feeling is practically weird.. I can take my time waking up in the morning, smell the cement from outside, hear the rain drops frall on the air conditioner, SLOWLY read the words on other peoples' blogs and websites and SLOWLY, try to find a connection with myself, the day, my life.

Nighttime .. and I jumped fast forward to daytime to be by myself, to claim the writing hour of the day. There are certain parts of the day that are my habitual routines, a few fiercely private. Today, I decided to take the day off for again, some serious writing, but this time to be at home. Technically, I'm supposed to be celebrating my birthday with my husband by walking and exploring parts of downtown Pittsburgh, only I can't seem to get up from the chair and leave the computer screen especially since I know I will barely have time for any research and writing and making sense of this book project this weekend.

*sigh* the price for making a cost effective decision

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Birthday Wishes - A Very late Thursday Thirteen


Pre-Halloween Reading
Hey, where's my mommy?

It's cool being King!








I'm tired from trick or treating.









Who says Thursday Thirteen can't be a Sunday Thirteen? I have been hibernatin' again, this time beneath the sodden last few unpacked boxes of stuff...like finding the story I have been needing to write or to claim the words and choose them wisely.

Crossing oceans is like making sense of the water, the waves and ... the words that I write. Behind words of course, are thoughts and bundles beneath them are habits stringed through many many years.

I think rushed, try to write in between dishes, laundry, clutter. I need my peace, quiet, sanity. I want to devote myself utterly to this writing project; it symbolizes all that I have become and all I want to be.

My birthday comes on November 10th - a Saturday. I will make a cake from the mix we received from the Squirrel Hill Food Pantry. I have a few birthday wishes I would like to make for myself and my family in order to beat the clock. :)

1. To live a sense of fulness, harmony and balance.
2. To see the bigger vision of writing, not just writing for the day.
3. To have the vision to break certain habits of thought like impulsiveness which seep into my writing, synchronicities of the moments, relationships.
4. To get a contract with a publisher for the book project I am currently writing for my sabbatical.
5. To be able to claim my writing in both its form, art and money. Sticking to a plan of what to write is better than not.
6. To claim my spirituality - practice it gratefully, open to it indulgently.
7. To be a full mommy. Ivry is a very special little boy and he is growing so beautifully.
8. To make more women friends.
9. To develop more of my passions that I have left on the shelf since early adulthood.
10. To hopefully become a better blogger.
11. To enjoy the writing of my sabbatical and enjoy the writing process rather than finding the answers
12. I wish for an career path that will bring me together with the values, goals, ambitions that I am looking for.
13. To live less a life of 'ifs' and more a life of 'here and now' and 'yes!"

Bonus: To always live a life less full than planned {and learn how to catch the moment} so as to leave room for the journey to completeness. (a cup half empty is better than cup that is too full)

Have a great Sunday!