Monthly Archives: May 2017

fairy-tale vignettes

Strolling through my ‘hood and romance is in the air, alas not for me.

I spy a wedding at the Brooklyn Museum atrium, and then a lost slipper–a modern day Cinderella perhaps, traipsing through the tree-lined streets of Park Slope.


Weekend Warrior: a new chapter begins

One of my friends is leaving New York City after 15 years and we spent the past weekend catching up with her Big Apple bucket list.

First stop, the Georgia O’Keeffe exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum:

 

We followed with a tour of the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, and fell in love with the rose gardens:

Tomorrow Kinga leaves for California, and a new chapter begins.


The New 4-Letter Word

(1) there’s
(1) a
(2) new four-letter
(3) word in town,
(5) one you should be wary
(8) about adding to your daily vocabulary. you most
(13) likely use it more often than you realize, it is sneaky that way.
(21) and although it’s not as disruptive as say a like or an Uhm, it can cause irreparable damage to your life.
(34) it’s the kind of word, if not used carefully, that can wreak havoc over your existence. its overuse creates disdain in others. its utterance makes you more susceptible to bad habits and ill decisions.
(34) you may find yourself being pulled in all sorts of directions, not all of them familiar or comfortable. sometimes the path will be lonely, and you may find yourself completely unrecognizable at the end.
(21) and what of that person who emerges from the fog after a battle of sheer wits and exhaustion for leading life
(13) without regard for other people’s boundaries, for claiming time as their own?
(8) time belongs to us all, does it not?
(5) Would you consider being honest,
(3) with yourself about
(2) how busy
(1) you
(1) aren’t.

Note: This poem is written in a Fibonacci sequence, logical math and Nature’s numbering system.


wet dog

The fog rolled in with the onset of rain, enveloping the Financial District. It felt every bit like a scene in a SyFy movie, and the Oculus’ modernistic structure made it even more so. IMG_6595On the way back to Grove Street, I walked through the night mist; the streets eerily quiet.   I emerged from the subway at Barclay’s Center to a downpour.

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The sky was gunmetal gray, the rain steady.

There was no way not to get wet, the raindrops were enormous. So I walked home in the rainstorm, the shower matching a melancholic mood. By the time I got home, I was soaked to the bone.

 


Parkour Kitty

Oh, Finn, you bewitch me as you vanish out the door on a mission for sun and soot. You start the day with your coat of cream and apricot…

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I sometimes catch you in your mischievousness, dashing across the rooftops. Nimble and quick as only cats can be, I cringe when I spot your tightrope walking on the parapets.

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We communicate in whistles and meows. When you finally do come home weary and tired, your coat is a hazy shade of summer gray.

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special occasions

This week I find myself meeting up with old friends and colleagues. I love that we are all able to stay connected and make the time to see each other in-person.

There was a time not so long ago when the in-person meetings, snail mail, and phone calls were our everyday touchpoints. Today, those touchpoints have all become virtual. We stay in the know via email, social media, SMS, and texts.

I love sending and receiving mail, and I’ve found over time that the in-person moments feel more like special occasions. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but my mind races with ideas on how we can plan more of them.

 


Weekend Warrior: Chihuly Nights

There are some places in this city that are pure magic. The New York Botanical Gardens in the Bronx is one. And this spring they are hosting “Chihuly Nights,” a twilight evening series with live music and an illumination of Dale Chihuly’s glass exhibition.

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Nightfall and the first installation I see is a blue stone glass sculpture in front of the library. The idyllic scene calls to mind the Trevi Fountain in Rome and the Fontaine de l’Observatoire in Paris.

On the main pathway, I come across a starburst sea urchin of blue and white. Against the night sky, suspended in mid-air, the early summer fireflies weave amid the crystal stems, bringing to mind fairies and nymphs.

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Nearer to the Visitor’s Center there is a pond of red reeds embedded in an oak tree. To my eye they resemble blood-red pitchforks, or even spears, protecting earthlings in an apocalyptic dystopian land. Although, I think I may be overdoing it on the Supergirl binge watching.

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The sunset melts away, and a chill settles in. The last pieces I see are ectoplasmic and alien-like dangling from the ceiling. A vibrant yellow-green sure to give Crayola a run for its money, and a doodle octopus in shades of purple and blue.

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Once I get home, I quickly fall asleep, and dream of far-off galaxies deep within the Milky Way.