Tonight I didn't get any work done. But, I did have dinner at Tea and Sympathy on Greewich Ave and then move down to 12 Chairs -- which by the way, seems to have eaten whatever crepe place was living next door....I am pretty sure there are more then 12 chairs in there now! --- to eat some very yummy chocolate gooey runny cake thing and talk.
I loved it.
Gosh, how can you tell you've been working too much?
Perhaps when sitting and talking seems like a novelty.
hmmm....
Friday, August 26, 2005
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
A Tender Surf
There is a man I have to tell you about....
A surfer.
I was on the subway to Brooklyn last week, it was around rush hour, not crazy, but not easy to find a seat either.
So I was standing. Against the doors.
Therefore, in front of me, is non-poled empty space.
And there was a man, with his back to me, grey hair, reading. Not holding on to anything. Keeping his knees at a respectful bend to the movement of the train, allowing his body to jostle and his feet and knees to take the sway - easily transferring it back into the floor...
He was a standing, reading, going home example of relaxed engagement.
He was the only reason I enjoyed that subway ride.
A surfer.
I was on the subway to Brooklyn last week, it was around rush hour, not crazy, but not easy to find a seat either.
So I was standing. Against the doors.
Therefore, in front of me, is non-poled empty space.
And there was a man, with his back to me, grey hair, reading. Not holding on to anything. Keeping his knees at a respectful bend to the movement of the train, allowing his body to jostle and his feet and knees to take the sway - easily transferring it back into the floor...
He was a standing, reading, going home example of relaxed engagement.
He was the only reason I enjoyed that subway ride.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Running Aground
In sailing terms, when one has sailed too close to shore, or managed to ignore any charts or warnings and run into a sand bar or generally shallow waters, it's called running aground.
I did that this weekend. Really. Its been a long time since my family (Jersey Shore grown, down and dirty boat building boatyard -- not a Marina -- a Boatyard) has run aground.
It's something that makes you wonder why. Was it to test my family and make sure that we can still work as a team, possibly even a crew, despite the two grown daughters with very different ways of doing things and parents that periodically forget to communicate? Maybe. We did it though. With constant concern for one another's safety and two hours of incredible effort (especially on Dad's part) we managed to turn the boat completely around, and disengage its fat belly from the muck and sand at the bottom of the shallows of Barnegat Bay.
By the way, sailing is incredible...it is a beautiful commune with water and sky...I am biased of course -- my parents had me on the boat at three weeks old -- sailing up to family on the shore with Dad holding me up for them to see -- everyone on shore waving with fear that someone so tiny should be hoovering over water -- but it was with pride that my Dad made that gesture. Makes a girl just want to do well, you know?
It also makes me want to put a picture of the boat up here - that's homework.
I did that this weekend. Really. Its been a long time since my family (Jersey Shore grown, down and dirty boat building boatyard -- not a Marina -- a Boatyard) has run aground.
It's something that makes you wonder why. Was it to test my family and make sure that we can still work as a team, possibly even a crew, despite the two grown daughters with very different ways of doing things and parents that periodically forget to communicate? Maybe. We did it though. With constant concern for one another's safety and two hours of incredible effort (especially on Dad's part) we managed to turn the boat completely around, and disengage its fat belly from the muck and sand at the bottom of the shallows of Barnegat Bay.
By the way, sailing is incredible...it is a beautiful commune with water and sky...I am biased of course -- my parents had me on the boat at three weeks old -- sailing up to family on the shore with Dad holding me up for them to see -- everyone on shore waving with fear that someone so tiny should be hoovering over water -- but it was with pride that my Dad made that gesture. Makes a girl just want to do well, you know?
It also makes me want to put a picture of the boat up here - that's homework.
This is a painting by Al Barker of Beaton's, the place I spent my childhood barefoot -- now that's a boatyard. None of this fluffy spa-like marina poop.
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