Home for a Few Days

It has been quite muggy here in NYC visiting my mom. I practically fainted in the 101 temperature walking Ivry back from the park today. Ivry was red as a beet, too.

We stayed indoors in the air-conditioned NYC - Greenwich Village apartment and watched cranes pull up woden stairs for the 14 million dollar townhouses across the street from us. Sadly this view afforded a view of the Hudson River, which is now, eternally blocked.

Deb from g's Cottage inspired me to write some of my observations since I've returned. Book writing has occupied much of this blog and no that I am back at Westbeth, the artist building where I grew up, it was a perfect opportunity to reset time to fit the times of 2008 and where I am.

It's hard to come back after 20 years of living in Israel and to see that the place I grew up is surrounded by celebrities and a lot of Europeans (the Euro is very strong) considering that when I left in 1989, nobody wanted to live in Greenwich Village - it was slumsville. Now everybody wants to live here. The building where my mom lives is subsidized by the government and the city council. The votes of the westbeth council is paramount to the recent developments of the recent struggle to keep Westbeth affordable for artists as its initial vision since its inception in 1970.

For me, Westbeth will always be home with its urbanity and profound artist foundation. I said that this morning to my mom's long time neighbor and visual artist Christina Maile. And I said this to my neighbor and friend Mary Bassett who lived down the hallway from us. I was so happy to see the exterminator come to my mom's door. I recognized him right away - just speaking to him made me feel better and not displaced like some refugee. I said he looks timeless - that help put everything into perspective like everything will be ok - for a brief moments, I felt my dad was practicing his art upstairs and my mom was practicing her piano.

Here I am not anonymous and the struggle to feel at home is not as pronounced because everythig is so familiar. The guard lets me in when he says: "Oh, you're Carmen's daughter" and Jacaman, Westbeth's beloved security guard downstairs from Puerto Rico has been here from 1973 - for me that is approximately since I was three years old. He always asks me "where's your brother?" and that makes me feel good because I've come back to my roots. telling him "He's in San Diego' is not as comforting. I wish I could tell him "He'll be back soon" but that is not the case. Everybody misses him around here.

People don't know where Pittsburgh is and I don't feel yet home.
the artist life is my foundation even if I don't practice in every day life. I love this part of New York City and I wish we could live here for at least some parts of the year.

I am at a serious crossroads in my life. Sometimes my day is occupied wondering what my future will bring. I have yet to find my home in Pittsburgh. Starting over is much much harder than I thought.

We're flying back to Pittsburgh later this afternoon. I think I will need come back to Westbeth more often to visit my mom and feel comforted. I aited much too long to come here - almost 7 months.

Will posted some amazing pictures soon.

I Had Forgotten

Now that the boxes are mainly unpacked, and Haim just started his new nifty job and the Jewish holidays behind us, there is room to grow and learn something new every day.. especially with my writing.

Beyond the glare of the computer screen, I had forgotten the candy corn kid in me... many many years back.

Well, today it happened. Of course the stores are decorated with that Halloween theme and fall's crisp in everywhere I look. I see the skeleton's and I remember the boo child who loved the Halloween invitations or the fake cobwebs and rubbery bones at the Greenwich Village House Party Store. (yes, it's there there!) But for some adult torn reason, I had overlooked that that child was also hiding in.. FOOD. Food Glorious Food!

Two nights ago, I almost got so mad at Haim for bringing a sugar one layer cake (which tasted like three layers to me) but ended up eating a few hearty slices myself. I think it was the coconut slices mixed in caramel, full of obvious cane sugar that brought me to it. For a very quick dash of a second, I stepped back into time eating candy corn, feeling the fake wool on my costume and dashed out into the hallways of Westbeth to find my friend Laura, so we could go trick or treating.

I'm very very close to home (only five hours away) but with every bite, of that cake the kid pops out - loud and strong...

Now, if I could only find a taker to finish and nibble off the cake. Too bad I don't have a teacher's room to bring it to, but oh, I'm not worried. Between the three of us, something's bound to happen...

So, what food edibles bring back the child in you?

Feeling A Bit Better

I was able to go down to the basement and do a load of laundry. I am always relieved to do laundry; it's a 'load' off my mind. I'm glad the stability ligaments of my left foot are slowly healing. Just a few days ago, I could hardly stand on it and the feeling somehow got me warped in a panic, the kind that instantly kicks off all sorts of unhappy thoughts... would I stay like this forever?

I got there before the dryer finished its cycle. It's not often I stand out waiting it out. Again another series of mundane thoughts: here's one for you - why are basements always painted grey? I never could quite understand...

On the way back up, I could feel myself putting effort in my steps, as the steps were quite steep but I was grateful to know my clothes had dried and my boys hadn't yet come home leaving me extra computer time.

I love quiet Sunday afternoons such as these. sometimes they can be too quiet and then I have trouble finding something that reminds me of childhood.

What part of Sundays do you like?