6.26.2009



Well into the bewitching hour I am seeking protection in the anonymity of the night. As I lay on my bed with my computer propped on my lap the moon shines through my window casting a glowing shadow on myself. It almost appears I am glistening luminously. I suddenly feel connected to Maui. Bittersweet-ness is tantalizing.
Tantalizing- THAT explains it... "it's what I've known right from the start"

I woke up today realizing my mind was going to be blown. I was not disappointed. I headed way uptown to 190th to visit The Cloisters Museum- a collection of medieval French art & architecture. Just the wilderness of the area was amazing- still in NYC (Inwood) but quiet and serene and open and amazing and...open! Carolina joined me in the afternoon. Seriously, only a bottle of champagne in the gardens would of topped the day- or so I thought. So we headed back down to 111th (Morningside Heights of the Columbia University fame) to St. John the Divine Cathedral. Now I may not be into religion, but I'm into religious experiences & had heard so much about this place. Jay, ever the gracious host, met us at the Hungarian Pastry Shop first- of which I will forever be in his debt for telling me about this place. Carolina's eyes widened at the sight of all the fancy treats (and this is from the girl from Brazil from where comes so many fancy treats)! Jay told us the recent legend of the white peacock so we went in search of it throughout the grounds. We found ourselves way in the back in the area where a fire blazed part of the cathedral's southeast side and up above in/on the ruins were 2 beautiful fully-brilliant male peacocks spreading their feathers in an incredible show of machisimo. As we continued on in search of the albino peacock a crack in the (suddenly) threatening sky provokes us to consider taking refuge for the imminent downpour. Walking away, a loud SWOOSH comes over us all and it is a peacock in full fancy flight heading furiously for a sheltered alcove. Carolina shouts out "Jesus Christ" and we all just looked at each other and giggled. So back in the gardens we finally encounter the elusive white peacock and Wow- my mind is blown again...today. So los Mariachis serenading us at dinnertime was just icing.

I really do see beauty here. It's not as apparent as the inyourfacekindaelectrifyingnaturalenvironmentrespiringjunglefoilageovertakinghumanity kinda way I'm familiar, no intimate, with on Maui but its here. "...and I still have one foot on the road... and there's still so much I don't know." I want to seek out more. I want to know more. I want to be intimate with more moments of truth in life. I just want my mind blown- continuously because with every shock to my mental framework, my body relaxes even further back into its natural state of soft supple receiver-ship. Enough to let in the rising tide of intimate bittersweet-ness and imprint memories into my DNA letting them rest on the banks of the river that is my central & esoteric nervous system. Let the banks of my river overflow with juicy bittersweet-ness.

Back to my day though... Carolina, Jay & myself find ourselves caught in a torrid downpour with lightning whipping through the sky as we started racing down the streets that suddenly flooded. As I looked at my surroundings, EVERYBODY was dashing for cover. Darkness filled the sky with layers of texturized gray. It was so beautiful I might have shed a tear had we not been dodging cars whizzing by the side streets with spray drenching unsuspecting pedestrians. It was so fun and I really felt alive at that moment. I giggled as everyone grumbled because I know this weather intimately. It is so seductive- yet not bittersweet, but it could be. It could be experienced with someone equally passionate in front of the elements. No, that would just be sweet...

On an ending note I was witness to something likened to a "Manhattanhenge" As we 3 were running for cover inside Mama Mexcio's we passed 104th, 103th? and looked west towards the Hudson and in that moment the sun was setting down the street in perfect symmetry between the buildings with the brilliance of the flamming ball of fire seemingly sinking from the skyline into the unknown due to the burden of heavyness caused by burning luminous sphere. My mind is blown. The bewitching hour fades. "I can feel sun on my face and the night lets go its embrace. And I still have one foot on the road. And there's still so much I don't know."







6.24.2009

statuesque

A brand new day in the city! In love with all the external stimuli here and I'm not even out of bed yet! School is fantastic and my classes are full of students, like myself, that are so full of new ideas and challenging old ideologies and paving the way for a new beginning. I am so impressed w/the faculty. It's a very innovative concept how classes are run and very progressive- as the institution itself is. No complaints here... and no blog as my alarm just quacked so must be off & running to catch the express train on time...

6.22.2009

addendum to ponderings- as always

The midnight hour knocks on the door to my soul and I open it up- the door, of course... With trepidation, no- anticipation. The anticipation of delving deeper into bittersweet-ness. Time to choose the medicinals wisely...
I've been pleasantly struggling with my new favorite lexical choice as of late. NYC has unleashed some incredible energy forces down into me. Am I the receptacle of light energy? It isn't a sure bet. I don't have the cool, calm nocturnal jungle energy to aid me in my thoughts. I am learning to find what I need here for this exact endeavor, but I don't yet have a sure-fire method. Without this how can I answer what keeps me awake... pondering?
Do we fade away into each other's treasure chest of memories like dusty, discolored photographs? Do we save ourselves from that distant dirt road in Mexico? Why? Why not?

I've never been one for fairytales outside of the entertainment factor. I have science fictional tendencies. Do "science chicks rock"? Does Einstein up here have it right as the sign says? (BTW - courtesy of a wall of street art in the Meatpacking District near the entrance to the HighLine). Is bittersweet-ness lovely? I've decided I think it's sweet to share...

6.20.2009

ponderings

The bewitching hour here in NYC & no one to bewitch. So much external stimulus surrounds me here that it is difficult to take it all in. As I try to concentrate on working tonight I keep becoming preoccupied with the term 'bittersweet' What exactly is the state of bittersweet? As per Wikipedia; "

Bittersweet refers to a combination of the standard tastes of sweetness and bitterness, and is often used as a metaphor for experiences which have binary elements of happiness and sadness, or pleasure and pain."

So there you have it. So perhaps what I am experiencing is not a state of bittersweet-ness but just incredibly fortunate to be dealt the hand I've been dealt in life, or more appropriately to make choices based on my desires. Rarely am I disappointed in my choices lately. To be able to feel something, a situation, and express the dualities that exist within every said situation. Or is this just a legacy from my father to analyze things and break down everything from machines to concepts into a raw material? At this point I have to consider this a unique flaw of mine that is part of the merchandise and the appearance of these flaws just adds to the artistic ensemble...


I suppose I am speaking in tongues. Easy to do in the bewitching hour. As well it is easy to speak in tongues in this city. There are so many solitary warriors going about their day that so much just slips under the radar. As an ethnographer I am overwhelmingly fascinated with subway etiquette. Rarely is there a sighting of a Homo Sapien doing nothing. Required social (or rather anti-social) apparatus includes iPod or iPhone, or other said "off brand choices"; less likely a book, magazine or newspaper, a rarer sighting of a homeless person to the rarest sighting being someone doing absolutely nothing. When I am caught offguard with nothing to cover up my undercover covert ethnographic observing, I tend to look at people. No one is really trying to catch anyone's eye. Lives seem so private and unapproachable. I had a miraculous conversation (ok, some basic niceities acknowledging mutual disagreement with the system) yesterday with a chick that came on the next stop after me and as she entered the train, a wave of heat struck her and she let out a long sigh- thereby effectively communicating to me that she, too, was revolted by the heat. We looked at each other and just laughed as everyone else stared vacantly into their distractions.


I am also finding out that one cannot do everything on one's list for the day in this city. It takes dedication of reading through various publications and adding onto calendars, first the phone so can download to the computer and various alerts days in advance of things. I find my iPhone beeping, or rather quacking, to me every few hours with something to do. How am I ever going to find the time to study and excel in school- which is the entire point. In fact, I need to be studying right now... I cannot let this quiet, dark solitude of the bewitching hour pass by without an opportunity to become bewitched by my school books. Yes, better than nothing...


6.13.2009

intimacy

Sunsets & silhouettes share intimacy

The sun plunging through a cloud bank out on the horizon is such an almost invasive intimacy to take part in- to be a silent observer. Fishing boats pulled up onto the shoreline to await another sunrise. I'm flooded with intimate memories on this night in the city. I'm in no mood to go out and try to make new intimate moments with the nighttime sky tonight. I can't take in any of NYC's nocturnal charms tonight because Maui is on my mind, and Bulgaria is on my mind.

A little over a week in the city so far and I hit crisis today; I NEED to smell, I need to have my vision stimulated by vast empty areas of greatness. I need to feel smothered in damp, heavy, intoxicating air. I want to have salt water dry on my skin and crack it and leave a fantastic trail of salt trailing behind long after the water evaporated to unleash their healing powers. I need to bike by Hookipa nearing sunset and look out at the line-up of surfers in the water and perhaps catch glimpse of that one set that comes along on those magical days that roar through out of nowhere and cleans up. When passing Mama's Fish House the night blooming Cereus- a otherworldly plant straight out of a hypnopompic science fiction novel where humans finally develop a way to communicate with plants and gain insight into their fantastical world- what exactly DOES give some of them their unique flair? Why are white flowers in the tropics night bloomers? Why do they hold such intimacies?

I am pondering how I miss the intimacy of my hands in the dirt. I miss that my hand has not cramped lately from having a trowel in it and shaving down a test unit into a perfect 1.0m x 1.0m x 1.0m work of art. In misery sometimes the most amazing intimicies are uncovered. I am reminded of 10-hour work days where we are all working side by side on our individual tasks and sharing stories and absurdities alike. 10 hours a day, etc. Archaeologists are funny peeps. We love to open up mysteries but tend to remain mysteries ourselves. Maybe we want people to tease it out of us like we use our trowels to carefully (most the time...) take down each layer of soil ever so painstakenly and intimately like we are having a conversation with it... Yes we are peculiar and I mean this in the most grateful of ways.

Perhaps it is just me. There are many people that know me but very few who really get me. Maybe I keep the details tucked away inside a treasure map for my friends to navigate through and have a fantastical journey of discovery along the way. Because, from what I gather, it is the journey...the meat... the intimacy.

Just another voice drowned out by the deafening sounds of people, of cars, in the city that never sleeps... New intimacies I need to familiarize myself with because I need to have intimate contact with my environment or else I don't know what will happen. Who can live without that? I will find that kind of peace here. I've caught glimpse of it already: viewing the Hudson from Chelsea Piers late at night when walking to the C train on 14th & 8th. I've seen it walking through Times Square oddly enough but not really. I've seen it walking on the High Line http://www.thehighline.org/

ok I'm not even going to proof this...