Sunday, December 17, 2006
Day 1 of Life
I had my day one. First day of tagging in my first posting. Ohya by the way, i'm posted to MEDICAL UNIT. So for those who know, you should be able to imagine how it's like. Non-stop. Reached the ward at 6.30am, start off with blood taking, review the patients in your cubicle, then ward round starts at 8am. After round is ward work, man the documentation is overwhelming. Fill in all the forms,
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Darren's Card Revelations 2
Filmed a vid sometimes ago and took the minimum time to edit it and now it's here. My 2nd vid in card revelation. Enjoy!P/s: The vid quality might be compromised due to that it's compressed to 1/10 its original size to ensure the good flow in running. Apologies for that!=)
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Farewell
I'm leaving KL tomorrow. At 6am early morning, gotta reach Ipoh at around 9am to report duty, then go to Hosp. Taiping to settle down. Friday is gonna be my first day of housemanship. Arggh in other words my good holiday time has reached an end. Have been trying my best to settle everything before I go but still there's somethin unfinished. Havn't updated this blog with the Dunhill show,
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
One More Step Closer
The long-awaited mail is finally in my hand. My USMLE Step 2 CK result. I've dreamed about this moment at least 5 times when i was waiting for it, think i'll probably go crazy thinking about it if it comes much later. So, opened it with fine tremor, and YES thank god and everyone, I passed! So relieved. I Think this is the best present to me before my housemanship. Haaaaapppy=D
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
full moon
Last Saturday I drove into Poughkeepsie to the Cunneen Hackett Arts Center to see Ann Haaland's beautiful paintings, which were featured in this month's Chronogram.
Ann and I met at a Highland Arts Center workshop a few years ago and we keep in touch by email. Somehow our schedules never seem to allow for a real sit down. The last show she had in Kingston, I drove up just as she and her husband were packing the last of the paintings into the car. And she's had two shows in New York that I could never manage to get to. I wasn't going to miss this one for anything.
Then I drove over to Kingston for the opening of The Art of Play at the Donskoj Gallery. My Sacred Dolls and Lint Balls were in the show, along with great pieces like the Anarchist's Bowling League, Nipple Rings and Good vs. Evil. The entire show is on the website, with better pics than mine, so check it out.
As for this week, I'm jamming a lifetime into every day. I'm subleting studio space on the Lower East Side from my friend Linda, who's off to a residency for the month. It's great to have the peace and quiet, and though I haven't geared up yet, I'm sure it's going to be a productive month.
The moon is full and I feel full of possibilities, thanks in great part to working with my art coach Brainard Carey, who along with his wife Delia is working on a collaborative video installation for the Whitney's Altria space on 42nd Street, across from Grand Central.
Ann and I met at a Highland Arts Center workshop a few years ago and we keep in touch by email. Somehow our schedules never seem to allow for a real sit down. The last show she had in Kingston, I drove up just as she and her husband were packing the last of the paintings into the car. And she's had two shows in New York that I could never manage to get to. I wasn't going to miss this one for anything.
Then I drove over to Kingston for the opening of The Art of Play at the Donskoj Gallery. My Sacred Dolls and Lint Balls were in the show, along with great pieces like the Anarchist's Bowling League, Nipple Rings and Good vs. Evil. The entire show is on the website, with better pics than mine, so check it out.
As for this week, I'm jamming a lifetime into every day. I'm subleting studio space on the Lower East Side from my friend Linda, who's off to a residency for the month. It's great to have the peace and quiet, and though I haven't geared up yet, I'm sure it's going to be a productive month.
The moon is full and I feel full of possibilities, thanks in great part to working with my art coach Brainard Carey, who along with his wife Delia is working on a collaborative video installation for the Whitney's Altria space on 42nd Street, across from Grand Central.
Sunday, December 3, 2006
Dunhill's "Project Blaine"
Here it is, the major event in my schedule, the "Project Blaine" presented by Dunhill. The project's name is indeed a flattering one. HEHE. I'm happy that they used my idol's name, or if it's that they think i'm by any means comparable to him, i'll be euphoric to death. Ha. Alright come back to the event, it's a four-night performance taking place in Kota Kinabalu and Kuching, 2 nights for
Monday, November 27, 2006
proof that bitching is productive
After my rant about not getting any art work done, what do you think happened? I buckled down and got some art work done of course. And here I was feeling guilty about sharing my angst when I'm supposed to be inspiring you. Just goes to show me.
Guess I need to fess up more often.
Guess I need to fess up more often.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Staedtler Roadshow
If one day while you are shopping somewhere, a Harry Potter/Zorro/Batman-like magician wants to show you some magic with Staedtler stationery, yes it could be me. Ha. This is a roadshow presented to you by Staedtler, the leading stationery brand, throughout the whole west M'sia starting from mid Nov till the end of Dec. It's gonna take place in 18+ major shopping centers during every
true confessions
The day after Thanksgiving I had an emergency root canal, and it looks like I'm going to have to have the tooth extracted. I've been having problems with that tooth for about a year, maybe even more, so after my initial shock and anger wore off, I realised there are a lot of things in my life that I just kind of live with and ignore for way too long. Art time being a big one.
I've had an order for a custom made ring for about 6 months, that I never seem to be able to get to making. And a few weeks ago, an old customer emailed for a replacement for a pin she'd bought from me a few years ago. I've stopped beating myself up for missed art submission deadlines. And I've been trying to plan a trip to India for 3 years.
So what gives? John Lennon said that life was what happened while we were busy making other plans. And my life is a busy one. Karate, harmonium lessons, a spot in an antique center, laundry, a 3-day a week job and the odd additional freelance assignment. But why does art always come last, squeezed into the last moments of a life that seems always to be in transition.
Traveling back and forth between my home in the Hudson Valley, and the work week in NYC packs a wallop. The house is in a constant state of disarray. Art supplies are everywhere, and nowhere to be found when I need them. I've been trying to get my studio cleaned up and organized for about a year now, and though I've made some progress, it's still not workable.
I dream of a clean, new, wide open, completely empty light filled space to live and work in. Which is why I started selling antiques and collectibles 6 months ago in an attempt to clear out the house and my life.
Everywhere I turn there is more to be purged. Often I just turn away and distract myself with something that feels more manageable. A bath, the dishes in the sink, a hike. I try to divide and conquer with small jobs that aren't too overwhelming, like a stack of magazines that can go to the dump. But even so, in the office which we've been trying to clear out for over a year as well, there are piles of unopened mail, much of it junk mail, that I just can't seem to get through. Weeding out what needs to be read, and what can just be tossed or run through the shredder is a time suck I avoid like the plague.
I hate the idea of life as one big long to do list, the day divvied up by tasks to be performed on a time schedule. But I'm beginning to think that it may be the only way to make any progress.
I was successful for a number of weeks, maybe even a month or two, in setting aside a couple of hours a week to work on my book, but even that has fallen by the wayside the last few weeks.
Progress in everything seems to be at a snail's pace, and every step forward, even giant ones like the remodeled mud room and new washer and dryer, seem to come with the proverbial two steps back.
My biggest question of myself always comes back to this: why isn't art #1? Forget the tired old answer of needing to earn a living. How can I make art the first thing I do in the morning and the last thing I do before sleep? How can I take the approach of the bhakti yogis, who strive to think of god in every moment.
It's not unrealistic really. Art is in the living, it's in the moment. It's just a matter of turning idea into a physical manifestation.
And perhaps, as I've done this morning, taking advantage of not being able to sleep, and turning it into an opportunity to write.
I just wish I could find a way to attach a video cam to my hip. Although I might never find the time to edit, I'd feel like I was making art.
I've had an order for a custom made ring for about 6 months, that I never seem to be able to get to making. And a few weeks ago, an old customer emailed for a replacement for a pin she'd bought from me a few years ago. I've stopped beating myself up for missed art submission deadlines. And I've been trying to plan a trip to India for 3 years.
So what gives? John Lennon said that life was what happened while we were busy making other plans. And my life is a busy one. Karate, harmonium lessons, a spot in an antique center, laundry, a 3-day a week job and the odd additional freelance assignment. But why does art always come last, squeezed into the last moments of a life that seems always to be in transition.
Traveling back and forth between my home in the Hudson Valley, and the work week in NYC packs a wallop. The house is in a constant state of disarray. Art supplies are everywhere, and nowhere to be found when I need them. I've been trying to get my studio cleaned up and organized for about a year now, and though I've made some progress, it's still not workable.
I dream of a clean, new, wide open, completely empty light filled space to live and work in. Which is why I started selling antiques and collectibles 6 months ago in an attempt to clear out the house and my life.
Everywhere I turn there is more to be purged. Often I just turn away and distract myself with something that feels more manageable. A bath, the dishes in the sink, a hike. I try to divide and conquer with small jobs that aren't too overwhelming, like a stack of magazines that can go to the dump. But even so, in the office which we've been trying to clear out for over a year as well, there are piles of unopened mail, much of it junk mail, that I just can't seem to get through. Weeding out what needs to be read, and what can just be tossed or run through the shredder is a time suck I avoid like the plague.
I hate the idea of life as one big long to do list, the day divvied up by tasks to be performed on a time schedule. But I'm beginning to think that it may be the only way to make any progress.
I was successful for a number of weeks, maybe even a month or two, in setting aside a couple of hours a week to work on my book, but even that has fallen by the wayside the last few weeks.
Progress in everything seems to be at a snail's pace, and every step forward, even giant ones like the remodeled mud room and new washer and dryer, seem to come with the proverbial two steps back.
My biggest question of myself always comes back to this: why isn't art #1? Forget the tired old answer of needing to earn a living. How can I make art the first thing I do in the morning and the last thing I do before sleep? How can I take the approach of the bhakti yogis, who strive to think of god in every moment.
It's not unrealistic really. Art is in the living, it's in the moment. It's just a matter of turning idea into a physical manifestation.
And perhaps, as I've done this morning, taking advantage of not being able to sleep, and turning it into an opportunity to write.
I just wish I could find a way to attach a video cam to my hip. Although I might never find the time to edit, I'd feel like I was making art.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Standard Chartered Branch Open Day Celebration
I'm back from a 3-day show! It was about the open day of 4 new branches of Standard Chartered Bank in Melaka, Penang Autocity, Kajang and Kepong respectively. This grand opening took place from 11th to 13th Nov and was really an exciting one for me as I also took this chance as a mini-vacation=p. The journey was pretty hectic though, started on the very first day itself.
The first day event
Saturday, November 11, 2006
OCBC Bank Mystical Carnival '06
Having turned down a few offers in Oct due to exam preparation, now i'm finally free for shows again! This month is gonna be really exciting. First in the schedule is this, the Mystical Carnival 2006 by OCBC Bank, held on 10th Nov in Hyatt Saujana Subang Resort. This carnival was exclusively for OCBC Bank staffs, and it sort of resembles the Masquerade party that I did for Digi, as the
Friday, November 3, 2006
Done my Step 2 CK!
Finally done my exam, USMLE Step 2 Clinical Knowledge on 2nd Nov at Prometric center in Sheraton Hotel. Think this time i did slightly better than the last, though the duration of preparation is more or less the same (2 months), time is comparatively more adequate this time as in without having to juggle with the clinical works like what happened for my Step 1, which took up half of my study time
weekend in vermont
Last weekend my dear friend Sanae and I hopped Jet Blue to Burlington, VT for a Yoga of Transformation Retreat presented by another dear friend Lori and her partner Nicholas.
It was an amazing weekend, almost too much to process, as I realize another work week has come to an end and I'm still reeling from re-entry.
The retreat was held in a contemporary stone house that was built by one of the Seagram's and is now being transformed into a retreat center. It's got floor to cathedral ceiling windows and a formidable staircase from the entry way to the main floor. And thanks to the wood stove and the company it was warm and toasty inside, though windy and pouring outside. We even woke to a bit of a snow flurry Sunday morning.
Sanae, Lori and I are planning to do an art, yoga, knitting retreat there in April. The weekend of transformational yoga, breathing and being was capped off by a lovely drive, and lunch with Nicholas and Lori. We ate at the Bee's Knees in Morrisville, Vermont (yummmy), stopped on the road to visit with artist Thea Alvin, whose arches and carrots made from construction netting are above, and watch glass being blown.
Now I'm back in the city, at the apartment doing laundry - which I will be doing next weekend in a brand spanking new LG washer and dryer.
I have to say, I never imagined I'd be the sort to be excited by domestic appliances, but the promise of a mud and laundry room with new floors and walls, and a washer that won't need to be rebalanced everytime I do a load, has got me giddy. The best thing? The new dryer has a front lint trap, so I'll still be able to collect one of my most precious art materials.
Oh, and I almost forgot the really best part: the pic above of my mini tile mosaic at the entry ways, created from a pile of broken dishes I've been collecting for years.
Friday, October 27, 2006
construction
Blogging from work so not able to post pics. But imagine a hole in the ground where a part of your house used to be. That's what was going on in my mud room/laundry room last week.
We haven't done any construction in the house in a long time. I mean 15 years long time. So I'd forgotten. Forgotten how much I love the demolition process. The rawness of it is what I find inspiring. 100 year old walls. Thousand year old rocks beneath the concrete and dirt. Then, tiny animal prints in the newly poured floor.
Yes, it was cold without the oil tank hooked up. And I fortunately missed the day of jack hammering that Larry had to contend with. But I've ended up with a stone faux foundation around the outside of the house -- thanks to the back breaking excavation work -- which hides a multitude of cosmetic sins.
And it will be soooo nice not to be kicking up pieces of broken cement everytime I do the laundry. Which I will soon be doing in a new washer and dryer. The old ones were used when we bought them and might be from the 70's. So we'll be saving electricity and water too.
And every time I walk into the laundry room I will find at my feet a little creative surprise that I've been saving up for with broken pottery and plate shards now embedded in the cement at the entry from the kitchen and the door that leads outside.
A stone foundation and a mosaic in my floor - two things I've always dreamed of and wasn't quite sure would ever happen. But carry those dreams around long enough and happen they will, as if the universe had been waiting for the right moment all along.
We haven't done any construction in the house in a long time. I mean 15 years long time. So I'd forgotten. Forgotten how much I love the demolition process. The rawness of it is what I find inspiring. 100 year old walls. Thousand year old rocks beneath the concrete and dirt. Then, tiny animal prints in the newly poured floor.
Yes, it was cold without the oil tank hooked up. And I fortunately missed the day of jack hammering that Larry had to contend with. But I've ended up with a stone faux foundation around the outside of the house -- thanks to the back breaking excavation work -- which hides a multitude of cosmetic sins.
And it will be soooo nice not to be kicking up pieces of broken cement everytime I do the laundry. Which I will soon be doing in a new washer and dryer. The old ones were used when we bought them and might be from the 70's. So we'll be saving electricity and water too.
And every time I walk into the laundry room I will find at my feet a little creative surprise that I've been saving up for with broken pottery and plate shards now embedded in the cement at the entry from the kitchen and the door that leads outside.
A stone foundation and a mosaic in my floor - two things I've always dreamed of and wasn't quite sure would ever happen. But carry those dreams around long enough and happen they will, as if the universe had been waiting for the right moment all along.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Next Stop: Hospital Taiping
Finally got my offer letter, the postman came at about 9am just before I was going out. When I saw it's such a thick one and was from Ministry of Health, I knew this is gonna be it. Having tachycardia while opening it, and HOORAY! I'm posted to hospital of my first choice - Hosp. Taiping! It'll be where I spend 12 to 18 months doing my housemanship, the first, as well as the most dreadful phase
Friday, October 6, 2006
inspired
Last week I had my first phone consult with art coach Brainard Carey, and I couldn't be more thrilled. I'm more excited about my work than I have been in an extremely long time. Feeling very hopeful and positive. What happened? A few little time management tips and just having someone listen well and be supportive I think. Oh yes, and hearing myself outloud.
I spent a lot of time this week looking at inspirational art books that are similar in genre to the one I've been working on, and that just got me very fired up. I'm working on the back jacket copy that describes the book and hooks a reader. And today, after swimming in Sabrina Ward Harrison's website, I'm reconsidering an idea I had when I first started the book. Which is to design or create the pages as if they were a part of the art process itself.
What I'm finding particulary amazing, is that in this jam-packed life of mine where there never seems to be enough time for the things I love -- I am finding time to work on this project and getting so jazzed by it, that I'm spending even more time on it. I'm not even worried that my steam will fizzle.
There was a moment that I thought, maybe I should give up the harmonium lessons, and then I rethought, definitely not. This is all about living fully and embracing the extremely multi-faceted person that I am. Brainard gave me a shot in the arm about this: there are more than numerous examples of people who do a lot of things successfully. Some of us are just built that way. I may need to focus on one thing at a time, but that doesn't mean I have to confine myself, or limit myself in any way.
Maybe this is second nature to most folks, but I feel like I'm relearning life. Isn't it amazing?
This post is linkless because I'm writing from work where the usual bells and whistles don't work. More about this exciting process in future posts, with links to inspire and fire you up too.
I spent a lot of time this week looking at inspirational art books that are similar in genre to the one I've been working on, and that just got me very fired up. I'm working on the back jacket copy that describes the book and hooks a reader. And today, after swimming in Sabrina Ward Harrison's website, I'm reconsidering an idea I had when I first started the book. Which is to design or create the pages as if they were a part of the art process itself.
What I'm finding particulary amazing, is that in this jam-packed life of mine where there never seems to be enough time for the things I love -- I am finding time to work on this project and getting so jazzed by it, that I'm spending even more time on it. I'm not even worried that my steam will fizzle.
There was a moment that I thought, maybe I should give up the harmonium lessons, and then I rethought, definitely not. This is all about living fully and embracing the extremely multi-faceted person that I am. Brainard gave me a shot in the arm about this: there are more than numerous examples of people who do a lot of things successfully. Some of us are just built that way. I may need to focus on one thing at a time, but that doesn't mean I have to confine myself, or limit myself in any way.
Maybe this is second nature to most folks, but I feel like I'm relearning life. Isn't it amazing?
This post is linkless because I'm writing from work where the usual bells and whistles don't work. More about this exciting process in future posts, with links to inspire and fire you up too.
Monday, October 2, 2006
Happy Birthday, Mom
Had a great birthday celebration for my mom yesterday in Jogoya, a japanese seafood buffet restaurant in Starhill Gallery. If you have not visited this restaurant before, please do so. This is something in life that you seriously can't miss. Vast variety of food are here..lobster, crab, oyster, codfish, scallop etc, you name it..served in Japanese, Western and Chinese cooking style. Eat as much
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
a new blog
My dear friend Mimi in Los Angeles just started her own blog: mimisaysso.blogspot.com And she says she was inspired by me. So aw shucks and all that. Be sure to check it out and be inspired by her.
Mimi is a photographer who has been inspired by Uta Barth; you can check out some of her amazing work here.
I'm not a photographer, but one of my more recent projects happens to be a digital photo documentation. I'm going to be showing three photos from the series Everything Changes at Lila Yoga as part of the Interdependence Project.
As usual, I've jumped into this knowing no one, but since I am so obsessive about yoga lately, and spending more and more time diving into my chanting and meditation practices... well, it seemed a natural. And as an artist, I am still looking for my people, my community.
Mimi and I were talking the other night about what a great launch pad Gallery 825 has been for her. She's been involved with them for a number of years, and the people she meets and opportunities that present themselves through the gallery have been great. It's the mission of the gallery to do just that.
Mimi is a photographer who has been inspired by Uta Barth; you can check out some of her amazing work here.
I'm not a photographer, but one of my more recent projects happens to be a digital photo documentation. I'm going to be showing three photos from the series Everything Changes at Lila Yoga as part of the Interdependence Project.
As usual, I've jumped into this knowing no one, but since I am so obsessive about yoga lately, and spending more and more time diving into my chanting and meditation practices... well, it seemed a natural. And as an artist, I am still looking for my people, my community.
Mimi and I were talking the other night about what a great launch pad Gallery 825 has been for her. She's been involved with them for a number of years, and the people she meets and opportunities that present themselves through the gallery have been great. It's the mission of the gallery to do just that.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Carlsberg Temptation Night
This was the second get-together party by Carlsberg, held on 15th Sept in a restaurant called Cafe Citron, somewhere near KLCC. I was invited by a new agent this time, but in the phone she told me, "My client has seen you performing before and he specifically asked me to call for your performance again." Sounds so mysterious. I purposely drove there earlier as I wasn't so sure about the
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
wednesday wanderings
Wednesday is a day off for me. I start the morning with a walk down Park Avenue to the Farmer's Market at Union Square. Usually to drop off a bag of composting material from the week's vegetable and fruit refuse. This morning, these two messages greeted me across 10th Street.
I haven't been getting much art done this summer so I've booked an initial consult with an art coach for next week. I have to say I like the idea of coaching in general. It's like having a private cheerleader.
Monday, September 11, 2006
last of summer fast and furious
barely enough time to catch my breath. i don't know where the long lazy hazy days went, but here we are in autumn. i used to dread this time of year, and could fill my stomach empty like a deep pit, but now i look forward to it. a slower pace seems to beckon, if not actuallly exist.
last weekend was ecstatic chant at omega, and larry was a love about it. i slept at omega saturday night and didn't get home til almost 3am sunday morning. it was amazing, and now it's gone like a dream.
i have been seeing a lot of wild turkey over the last several weeks. they are a symbol of fall and of shared blessings. this last weekend, i found one dead by the side of the road, brought her home, clipped and hung her wings, and took as many feathers as i could comfortably pull. then i set the carcass like an offering on the stone fence. she was gone by morning.
i've set up an initial phone consult with an art coach, because i am getting nowhere with anything it seems. i've barely even done any water colors in the last several weeks. and i don't have any new ideas. while the old ideas are not even getting explored fully. so it's time to do something.
i've lost momentum completely, and need to get it back.
but it is autumn after all, and if i'm going to head into hibernation, i at least want to do with some inspiration. right now, all i want to do is sleep. the changing of the seasons always has the effect on me. i could just curl up like a cat on the corner of a rug or a park bench in the sun and be a very very happy soul.
last weekend was ecstatic chant at omega, and larry was a love about it. i slept at omega saturday night and didn't get home til almost 3am sunday morning. it was amazing, and now it's gone like a dream.
i have been seeing a lot of wild turkey over the last several weeks. they are a symbol of fall and of shared blessings. this last weekend, i found one dead by the side of the road, brought her home, clipped and hung her wings, and took as many feathers as i could comfortably pull. then i set the carcass like an offering on the stone fence. she was gone by morning.
i've set up an initial phone consult with an art coach, because i am getting nowhere with anything it seems. i've barely even done any water colors in the last several weeks. and i don't have any new ideas. while the old ideas are not even getting explored fully. so it's time to do something.
i've lost momentum completely, and need to get it back.
but it is autumn after all, and if i'm going to head into hibernation, i at least want to do with some inspiration. right now, all i want to do is sleep. the changing of the seasons always has the effect on me. i could just curl up like a cat on the corner of a rug or a park bench in the sun and be a very very happy soul.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
DiGi Transmorfo Night
Did a show for Digi on 25th Aug, approximately one week after my convo. Was excited about it as the show was big, and it was a masquerade party in the DiGi's new Hq in Subang Industrial Park. This was the second time i worked with DiGi, which the first time was during the X Games Asia 2006 in Sunway Lagoon.
So for this DiGi party, i called David for helping as they needed a pair of
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
summer dreams
I head into every summer with dreams of long lazy days, and before I know it, August is half over and I haven't even put up my hammock. Last week was the first time I got around to sweeping the front porch; Larry had his first weed wacking session of the season. And it's not as if we've been relaxing. Which is not to say we haven't been enjoying the summer. We've just been very busy with it.
Highlights of the last few weeks have been:
A visit with my sister and niece who were visiting from Isreal (they flew home just as the cease fire was in effect)
A trip to the Dale Chihuly exhibit at the New York Botanical Gardens with my yogini friend Lori
And a two day too fast workshop stint at Omega Teen Camp.
Long lazy moments definitely wound their wonderful tendrils around these days and nights, though my sense of things is that today is the first day I've had nothing to do, no schedule, nothing to prepare for, nowhere to be in what seems like forever. The constant hum of the buildings outside the apartment window is like a lullabye. And despite the gorgeous weather, I am happy to sit home, nap, write, and decorate my hand with henna.
Since being at Omega in May, and thanks to a few good talks with the resident life coach there, I am definitely working on infusing my life with more of the things that make my heart sing, feed my soul. And small things like sitting still, and not forcing myself to finish off the never-ending list of errands that keep most of us swirling through life with little respite, is definitely one of my biggest joys. Days like these remind me of being a kid at camp, sitting in the bunk and watching the leaves grow outside the window.
That is, after all, what summer is for. At least in my dreams.
Highlights of the last few weeks have been:
A visit with my sister and niece who were visiting from Isreal (they flew home just as the cease fire was in effect)
A trip to the Dale Chihuly exhibit at the New York Botanical Gardens with my yogini friend Lori
And a two day too fast workshop stint at Omega Teen Camp.
Long lazy moments definitely wound their wonderful tendrils around these days and nights, though my sense of things is that today is the first day I've had nothing to do, no schedule, nothing to prepare for, nowhere to be in what seems like forever. The constant hum of the buildings outside the apartment window is like a lullabye. And despite the gorgeous weather, I am happy to sit home, nap, write, and decorate my hand with henna.
Since being at Omega in May, and thanks to a few good talks with the resident life coach there, I am definitely working on infusing my life with more of the things that make my heart sing, feed my soul. And small things like sitting still, and not forcing myself to finish off the never-ending list of errands that keep most of us swirling through life with little respite, is definitely one of my biggest joys. Days like these remind me of being a kid at camp, sitting in the bunk and watching the leaves grow outside the window.
That is, after all, what summer is for. At least in my dreams.
New Journey of Life
Graduated. Finally. An ambition since kindergarten, 5 years of crazy life, this is the moment that i had been waiting for. The final semester has ended quite fast i must say, but it gave a lot of memories though. Life in Batu Pahat (minus portfolio) was better than in seremban after all, mainly because of the food and people there are generally nicer (BP ppl, hosp staffs, patients etc). The exit
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
MOF
In the old days of my advertising career, shooting commercials for Revlon, we used a term for shooting without sound, MOS, for mit out sound. A little mixure of languages.
And so it is that I borrow the idea for photoless posts. I haven't been carrying my digital camera around much so far this summer. My bag has felt heavy enough, too heavy in fact and I daily try to lighten my load, physically and psychically.
Last Friday I went to see Amma at the Manhattan Center. She is called "the hugging saint of India", a great humanitarian and guru. Though I wasn't able to receive her darshan in the form of a hug, I was able to do seva (service) in the morning, helping to prepare food, and later handing Amma prasad as she hugged devotees who had not previously had a hug from her. There are some pics on her website. You can also visit the New York site.
I was blessed to receive her divine hug a few years ago at a yoga studio on 5th Avenue, where less than 50 people were gathered. I didn't realize how fortunate I was until much later when I learned that thousands often stand in line to receive her darshan. She is in my heart now, and I often go there when in need of a mother's hug. It is not something easily conveyed in words, but Amma hugs you as if you were her child, and she the mother of all mothers, The Divine Mother. Which she is in fact considered to be. It is a transforming experience, especially if you've not had quite that kind of experience with your own mother. For me, it was probably more closely akin to the kind of love I received from my grandmother. All encompassing. All accepting.
I happen to be in the midst of reading Holy Madness by Georg Feuerstein, which is about the practice of crazy wise teachers, teaching and enlightenment. Amma is not mentioned, I imagine because she is not particulary controversial, and has been recognized by the UN, among others for her extensive humanitarian efforts. But there were a few little mentions of Neem Karoli Baba, and it's really a fascinating look at the idea of guru and devotee.
I come to all of this through my chanting experiences, which continue to grow and put me in touch with new friends, like Gwen who is helping me clean up my yard and my house, and Tania who teaches yoga at Om in New York.
Meanwhile I am really making an effort to go to yoga classes at Shri during the week as a way to escape work at lunch time on regular basis. And I am moving from terror to glee when faced with the challenge of hand stands. It hasn't taken that long, really. And every time I am helped up into that inversion position, I am able to breathe a little easier with less fear and a little more core strength. In the meantime I am working at home on my headstands which are progressing nicely as well.
Yoga is a beautiful accompaniment to my karate practice, which am particularly loving during this summer heat and humidity. It reminds me that we can in fact do what we might consider impossible. All we have to do is try, and surprise ourselves with the outcome.
And so it is that I borrow the idea for photoless posts. I haven't been carrying my digital camera around much so far this summer. My bag has felt heavy enough, too heavy in fact and I daily try to lighten my load, physically and psychically.
Last Friday I went to see Amma at the Manhattan Center. She is called "the hugging saint of India", a great humanitarian and guru. Though I wasn't able to receive her darshan in the form of a hug, I was able to do seva (service) in the morning, helping to prepare food, and later handing Amma prasad as she hugged devotees who had not previously had a hug from her. There are some pics on her website. You can also visit the New York site.
I was blessed to receive her divine hug a few years ago at a yoga studio on 5th Avenue, where less than 50 people were gathered. I didn't realize how fortunate I was until much later when I learned that thousands often stand in line to receive her darshan. She is in my heart now, and I often go there when in need of a mother's hug. It is not something easily conveyed in words, but Amma hugs you as if you were her child, and she the mother of all mothers, The Divine Mother. Which she is in fact considered to be. It is a transforming experience, especially if you've not had quite that kind of experience with your own mother. For me, it was probably more closely akin to the kind of love I received from my grandmother. All encompassing. All accepting.
I happen to be in the midst of reading Holy Madness by Georg Feuerstein, which is about the practice of crazy wise teachers, teaching and enlightenment. Amma is not mentioned, I imagine because she is not particulary controversial, and has been recognized by the UN, among others for her extensive humanitarian efforts. But there were a few little mentions of Neem Karoli Baba, and it's really a fascinating look at the idea of guru and devotee.
I come to all of this through my chanting experiences, which continue to grow and put me in touch with new friends, like Gwen who is helping me clean up my yard and my house, and Tania who teaches yoga at Om in New York.
Meanwhile I am really making an effort to go to yoga classes at Shri during the week as a way to escape work at lunch time on regular basis. And I am moving from terror to glee when faced with the challenge of hand stands. It hasn't taken that long, really. And every time I am helped up into that inversion position, I am able to breathe a little easier with less fear and a little more core strength. In the meantime I am working at home on my headstands which are progressing nicely as well.
Yoga is a beautiful accompaniment to my karate practice, which am particularly loving during this summer heat and humidity. It reminds me that we can in fact do what we might consider impossible. All we have to do is try, and surprise ourselves with the outcome.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
art, energy and inspiration
I'm still exploring energy - reading the book Brett recommended to me by Diane Stein, Essential Energy Balancing. And a quick lunch with the other Riva at Omega reminded me of some grounding exercises that are very helpful.
One is to imagine a red ball in each of all corners of the room, and then connect them all to a larger ball in the center. It's amazing, and really clears out the frenetic energy of a room. The other is to imagine white light, blue water or golden light, pouring through you from the heavens and into the core of the earth. Very cleansing.
Last Sunday I taught two workshops at Omega. One was Watercolor Meditation, usually taught by art goddess Mai. But I offered to help out so that she wouldn't have to rush back from a wedding. The other was a combo of my usual Beeswax Bliss and Beauty to the Bone. Both workshops were amazing and meditative each in their own way. The rain was pouring down in buckets in the afternoon, creating a special atmosphere in the art hut. When I packed up I got drenched to bone, literally. But what was most interesting was how the morning Watercolor Meditation, impacted the afternoon Beeswax Bliss. I typically pepper the hours with quotes and thoughts while everyone is working. And because of the instructions given to me by Mai for the Watercolor Meditation, I was able to add a different type of inspiration to the 3d workshop. The somewhat methodical, but instinctive painting process, in which we initially used two contrasting or complementing colors in freeform grid patterns drawn on the paper -- helped me to see process in a completely different way. I really did lose myself in the painting, much the same way I do in 3 dimensional work. But simply because it was a completely different experience for me, I think I was able to explain it more fully, and expand upon my ideas about process work, instinct and intuition. Perhaps I'll have a chance to write more fully about it too, in my every developing Magic Medicine book.
Meanwhile, a commitment to art has meant life is becoming busier than ever as I jockey and juggle it all.
This morning, running around the city, I was struck by the amount of construction going on, and more interestingly, the earth revealed by the removal of buildings. Under all that concrete, Mother Earth, rich and brown, rests and supports us.
One is to imagine a red ball in each of all corners of the room, and then connect them all to a larger ball in the center. It's amazing, and really clears out the frenetic energy of a room. The other is to imagine white light, blue water or golden light, pouring through you from the heavens and into the core of the earth. Very cleansing.
Last Sunday I taught two workshops at Omega. One was Watercolor Meditation, usually taught by art goddess Mai. But I offered to help out so that she wouldn't have to rush back from a wedding. The other was a combo of my usual Beeswax Bliss and Beauty to the Bone. Both workshops were amazing and meditative each in their own way. The rain was pouring down in buckets in the afternoon, creating a special atmosphere in the art hut. When I packed up I got drenched to bone, literally. But what was most interesting was how the morning Watercolor Meditation, impacted the afternoon Beeswax Bliss. I typically pepper the hours with quotes and thoughts while everyone is working. And because of the instructions given to me by Mai for the Watercolor Meditation, I was able to add a different type of inspiration to the 3d workshop. The somewhat methodical, but instinctive painting process, in which we initially used two contrasting or complementing colors in freeform grid patterns drawn on the paper -- helped me to see process in a completely different way. I really did lose myself in the painting, much the same way I do in 3 dimensional work. But simply because it was a completely different experience for me, I think I was able to explain it more fully, and expand upon my ideas about process work, instinct and intuition. Perhaps I'll have a chance to write more fully about it too, in my every developing Magic Medicine book.
Meanwhile, a commitment to art has meant life is becoming busier than ever as I jockey and juggle it all.
This morning, running around the city, I was struck by the amount of construction going on, and more interestingly, the earth revealed by the removal of buildings. Under all that concrete, Mother Earth, rich and brown, rests and supports us.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
caution to the winds
I'm usually very careful about the energy that I emit in this blog, and try my best to keep it to the positive. In this busy swirl of a life, that can be a challenge of course. But it can be a gift to find the upside in everything. And often it's a teaching that comes full circle back to the teacher.
That being said, today I'm going with the strange energy that is in my body today. It's not exactly negative, but it's definitely not feeling positive either. For days now, I've felt on the verge of tears for no real reason -- not even hormones. And though we only had a single day at home this week, which could be the reason, I sense that something larger or more important is lurking.
I'm going to backtrack a bit, to the day I left Omega more than 2 weeks ago. More than anything, I didn't want to leave. I was having such a great time with my friend and yoga guru Lori, and her friend Sophia -- I just didn't want it to end. But knowing that ending was inevitable the three of us hiked up to the woods behind the Sanctuary and Hill House on the Omega Campus, and completed ourselves and our time together with three closing primal screams to match the three we'd reveled in a few days earlier.
After our scream we went to a workshop in Hillhouse, which is a sort of staff sanctuary at Omega. It was a version of Brett Bevell's Shamanic Colonic, which included a yogic rune pose, an ancient Egyptian chant, and Vortex Healing.
Brett doesn't talk a lot about what he's doing. He explains enough to make everyone comfortable and then just does it. And that adds to the magic and mystery. As a yoga teacher recently said after a class: a professor only tells you what you need to know, a grad student tells you everything.
After the Vortex Healing I felt completely ready to leave Omega, in fact happily anxious to be on my way. And that was quite a relief, because I'd been carrying a kind of sadness all morning in anticipation of making the break.
Fast forward to a week later, where I am sitting on the floor at the Ananda Ashram for a Krishna Das kirtan, and I feel as though a dark black energy is sucking the life force out of my spine. I attribute it to a woman who is sitting behind me, and not at all respecting my personal space. Everyone is kind of crammed into the room and it's close quarters, but there are ways of being mindful of one another's space, and for the most part everyone else is. I feel so assaulted and vulnerable that I put my hands protectively at the base of my spine as a shield.
I've all but forgotten about the encounter, until another two weeks later when I am walking down the street and feel the same energy again, though not quite as dark feeling, and more of a swoosh. That was today.
For the last week in general, I've been increasingly aware of energy patterns, how our individual energies impact others. Larry and I had a short conversation with Shozeki Shihan Renzie Hanhman about ETF while Larry was dealing with a definite energy deficit at our dojo's 30th anniversary tournament.
And I'm in the midst of The Energies of Love by Donna Eden and David Feinstein.
I'm having little auguries every day. The first of which had to do with how we create an energy suck on others when we don't take care of ourselves and deplete our energy reserves. There's a certain point at which you can't fill back up until you've done something restorative for yourself. Time alone. Quiet. A massage.
It's helping me to understand how and why some people are just succubi.
So, while I have nothing particularly definitive to say about energy -- I am explorating it in ways I haven't been quite so open to before. And that reminds me of something Pat the devic gardener at Omega told me while we chatted one particularly gorgeous morning. And that was that sometimes we meet someone just so that when the time is right, we can really meet. That's as true of ideas as it is with people.
That being said, today I'm going with the strange energy that is in my body today. It's not exactly negative, but it's definitely not feeling positive either. For days now, I've felt on the verge of tears for no real reason -- not even hormones. And though we only had a single day at home this week, which could be the reason, I sense that something larger or more important is lurking.
I'm going to backtrack a bit, to the day I left Omega more than 2 weeks ago. More than anything, I didn't want to leave. I was having such a great time with my friend and yoga guru Lori, and her friend Sophia -- I just didn't want it to end. But knowing that ending was inevitable the three of us hiked up to the woods behind the Sanctuary and Hill House on the Omega Campus, and completed ourselves and our time together with three closing primal screams to match the three we'd reveled in a few days earlier.
After our scream we went to a workshop in Hillhouse, which is a sort of staff sanctuary at Omega. It was a version of Brett Bevell's Shamanic Colonic, which included a yogic rune pose, an ancient Egyptian chant, and Vortex Healing.
Brett doesn't talk a lot about what he's doing. He explains enough to make everyone comfortable and then just does it. And that adds to the magic and mystery. As a yoga teacher recently said after a class: a professor only tells you what you need to know, a grad student tells you everything.
After the Vortex Healing I felt completely ready to leave Omega, in fact happily anxious to be on my way. And that was quite a relief, because I'd been carrying a kind of sadness all morning in anticipation of making the break.
Fast forward to a week later, where I am sitting on the floor at the Ananda Ashram for a Krishna Das kirtan, and I feel as though a dark black energy is sucking the life force out of my spine. I attribute it to a woman who is sitting behind me, and not at all respecting my personal space. Everyone is kind of crammed into the room and it's close quarters, but there are ways of being mindful of one another's space, and for the most part everyone else is. I feel so assaulted and vulnerable that I put my hands protectively at the base of my spine as a shield.
I've all but forgotten about the encounter, until another two weeks later when I am walking down the street and feel the same energy again, though not quite as dark feeling, and more of a swoosh. That was today.
For the last week in general, I've been increasingly aware of energy patterns, how our individual energies impact others. Larry and I had a short conversation with Shozeki Shihan Renzie Hanhman about ETF while Larry was dealing with a definite energy deficit at our dojo's 30th anniversary tournament.
And I'm in the midst of The Energies of Love by Donna Eden and David Feinstein.
I'm having little auguries every day. The first of which had to do with how we create an energy suck on others when we don't take care of ourselves and deplete our energy reserves. There's a certain point at which you can't fill back up until you've done something restorative for yourself. Time alone. Quiet. A massage.
It's helping me to understand how and why some people are just succubi.
So, while I have nothing particularly definitive to say about energy -- I am explorating it in ways I haven't been quite so open to before. And that reminds me of something Pat the devic gardener at Omega told me while we chatted one particularly gorgeous morning. And that was that sometimes we meet someone just so that when the time is right, we can really meet. That's as true of ideas as it is with people.
Sunday, June 4, 2006
everything we need is right here
This year's Omega experience was particularly heightened. A shamanic initiation of sorts that started with a brutal bite from my cat, Simon. My hand was a mouse in his mouth. And the way the blood spurted when he finally unclenched his teeth had me initially freaked out, and pretty traumatized for days.
As a result my Omega entry was a bit delirious and not in a postive way. Hand swollen, sleepless, stomach in knots from antibiotics -- I walked around in a stupor, not quite sure why I was there. The driving rain and cold didn't help. And the sauna was off limits til the wound healed.
But less than a week later, the veil lifted, the sun came out, the temperature rose, and the world turned upside down in a good way.
My workshops were phenomenal and I'll be posting a page of pics on my website. Days were filled with yoga, kayaking, kirtan, massage, dance and delicious food. The library and sauna were nightly retreats.
I got a bit of my own art making in, but more importantly a renewed commitment to forging this path and presenting more workshops, so that my soul life isn't squeezed into just two weeks each year.
The overwhelming truth about Omega is that everything we need comes to us exactly when we need it. This is true of love and friendship, healing and life lessons. And while it seems that Omega is a magical place where the universe is conspiring to shower us with joy, in fact, it's a concentrated version of our lives out in the world. The land there is definitely sacred ground; the air we breath there too. But so is every step and breath we take in the world.
I struggle gently to keep this in my heart as I return to work, a hectic schedule, difficult people and daily demands. Proof is already mounting. As Omega's Life Coach Win Harper told me: the very first thing we need to do is ask for what we want.
Maybe it's the only thing.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
X Games Asia 2006
Was called to perform in X Games Asia 2006 in Sunway Lagoon..which was held from 12th to 14th in May. A consecutive 3-day performance is kinda impossible for my usual schedule but after i checked..it's nicely within my one-week mid-sem break..so BINGO! This experience is pretty special..it's still walkaround magic but it was beside a beach! The feeling was so nice..so as the view (hehe).
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
free will astrology inspiration
This week I'm sharing my horoscope from rob brezny's free will astrology for inspiration. I think it's great advice for all of us. And for more delicious inspiration, visit freewillastrology.com
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Would you please go have a picnic after
midnight in a secret garden? Or maybe wander out to the edge of
nowhere and throw a birthday party for the sun? Or weave wildflowers in
your hair and lead a sweet thing unto temptation with a seduction
strategy plucked from a poem by Pablo Neruda? Please, Gemini, tear
your eyes away from the terribly obvious and the numbingly familiar. Be
willing to be as impractical as you've ever been. The weird probability is that
you'll have a piercing insight about the bottom line while you're
wandering free in a place that's far from the bottom line.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Would you please go have a picnic after
midnight in a secret garden? Or maybe wander out to the edge of
nowhere and throw a birthday party for the sun? Or weave wildflowers in
your hair and lead a sweet thing unto temptation with a seduction
strategy plucked from a poem by Pablo Neruda? Please, Gemini, tear
your eyes away from the terribly obvious and the numbingly familiar. Be
willing to be as impractical as you've ever been. The weird probability is that
you'll have a piercing insight about the bottom line while you're
wandering free in a place that's far from the bottom line.
Saturday, May 6, 2006
magic
I have been low grade stressing all week about hanging "everything changes" at Omega. I wasn't sure how the prints from Winkflash would turn out. And I'd bought 9 frames at Dick Blick, but wasn't sure how they would work out.
The Winkflash prints are not as good as I'd hoped. I should have printed the pics on photo paper on my computer. But it was an experiment, and took one job off my plate.
The frames are fabulous, but I realized as I was putting the images in them, that not all of them were glass. When I checked the site, it seems they ship plastic not glass. So apparently I got some frames that were meant for shipping even though I'd bought them at the store near Astor Place.
No matter. I wanted to get the work hung, so I did what I always do, and I made do. I will follow up with the store on Monday and see if I can get some kind of credit, or they can get me the glass.
The next stress on my plate was the physical act of hanging. I'm not much of measurer. I do things by site, but I knew that to hang these as I'd imagined them, in a grid, I'd have to do some exacting work. Little voices in my head played both sides of the coin. I just had to keep reminding myself to keep breathing, take my time and trust myself and the universe.
Luckily I'd also realized on the drive over that I might have to adjust my hanging plan, based on what the actual wall space was. Memory never serves correctly.
As it turned out, I had to separate the grid a bit, but had no trouble at all measuring and getting things just about as perfect as possible. Everything looks straight and lined up. I love the grid.
When I finished I headed for the sauna, and sank into the beauty of having everything come together with so little struggle, and even so little planning. Things just fell into place in a nice way. Omega is like that. The energy is just amazing.
I walked out of the sauna and saw Nina Spiro, who I'd met my first year. We've been out of touch the last year, but I know we're both thinking of each other despite the lack of contact.
It's a short weekend for me, as I'm headed back into the city early tomorrow for a benefit auction at my karate school in the afternoon and chanting with Krishna Das in the evening.
I think this time of year is always a whirlwind for me. I'm getting ready for my residency at Omega, and just juggling all I can. Enjoying the lilac and crab apple blooms. Opening windows. Walking barefoot again.
Wednesday, May 3, 2006
folk and film
Last Saturday night, Larry and I drove over to Unison Arts Center in New Paltz to hear Michael Smith - an extraordinary songwriter who Larry played with more than 30 years ago. Michael's most well-known for The Dutchman, which was recorded by Steve Goodman who is best known for City of New Orleans. I suppose all of this means little if you're not a folk fan. And I have to admit, without Larry providing all the details, I wouldn't have known any of this. But I was raised on Pete Seeger, Peter, Paul and Mary, Sandy and Caroline Paton. My sisters and I used to sing 3 part harmony on long trips in the car. So while my musical tastes have broadened quite a bit, I am and always will be a folkie at heart. I still have the long hair to prove it. And I think I've said here before, I'm pretty sure my love of chanting is rooted in singing round the campfire and belting out 500 Miles.
Just today, I had the good fortune to take in two films at the Tribeca Film Festival. It's their 5th year and my first. And I really lucked out with two fabulous foreign films. One from Iran, the other from Lebanon. And given our country's current politics, they were both all the more poignant.
Men at Work struck me for the similarities in human beings around the world. A Perfect Day for the politics and personal loss experienced elsewhere in the world, though not so frequently here in the USA.
I'm not very well versed in film, I just know what I like, know when I'm moved, and transported to worlds I'm not as familiar with as my own. That is one of the great gifts of foreign films I think. On one hand to see how similar we are to one another, all around the globe. On the other, to see how different.
Both film makers were available after the screening for Q&A, which was fascinating. You can read more about Joana Hadjithomas and Kahilil Joreige, here.
I highly recommend each of these films when they hopefully make it to your indie movie house. Neither is uplifting, but each is expansive in its own way.
And expansion is what's it's all about, isn't it?
Just today, I had the good fortune to take in two films at the Tribeca Film Festival. It's their 5th year and my first. And I really lucked out with two fabulous foreign films. One from Iran, the other from Lebanon. And given our country's current politics, they were both all the more poignant.
Men at Work struck me for the similarities in human beings around the world. A Perfect Day for the politics and personal loss experienced elsewhere in the world, though not so frequently here in the USA.
I'm not very well versed in film, I just know what I like, know when I'm moved, and transported to worlds I'm not as familiar with as my own. That is one of the great gifts of foreign films I think. On one hand to see how similar we are to one another, all around the globe. On the other, to see how different.
Both film makers were available after the screening for Q&A, which was fascinating. You can read more about Joana Hadjithomas and Kahilil Joreige, here.
I highly recommend each of these films when they hopefully make it to your indie movie house. Neither is uplifting, but each is expansive in its own way.
And expansion is what's it's all about, isn't it?
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Water Prayer Workshop
In honor of Earth Day, I held a lunchtime workshop at Aveda on Tuesday. What fun! Wish we could do it every week. And actually there's no reason why I couldn't spend a lunch hour making beads and extend an invitation to everyone. Kind of like a quilting bee, but with paper beads.
That's always what my workshops feel like - to me anyway. I love how everyone comes together, and just settles into the making of things, and the gentle conversation that swirls around. Inevitably, more people wander in, during and afterwards, so the energy doesn't just start up and stop, but slowly gathers and then just as slowly dwindles.
Still, I can feel it in my body for hours afterwards. An electric pulse as if I am a battery being charged.
It never fails that everyone is amazed at how relaxing and rewarding it is to make even such a small thing as a paper bead. We get so far away from these simple things that bring us so much joy. It's hard to squeeze them in, but also I think, we dismiss them as not being worth our time. Somehow too childish. Because that's what we remember. Being a kid and making things like this. Whiling away hours. Happily.
The head of PR popped her head in and immediately thought it was a great project for school kids. Which of course it is. But to be honest, I always enjoy making way for the child in adults. We need to be in touch with this part of ourselves. It isn't childish. It's a direct line to our hearts, and who we really are.
Like chanting, like running, and meditation -- like anything that takes us out of our busy minds, and brings us back to the quiet and peaceful place that is pure being.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Two Stories and a Funny Pic
Came across these two little stories kinda long time ago..think they're meaningful and worth sharing. And also a funny pic..which gave me a good laugh.#1: A man asked his father-in-law, "Many people praised you for a successful marriage. Could you please share with me your secret?" The father-in-law answered with a smile, "Never criticise your wife for her shortcomings or when she does something
Thursday, April 20, 2006
howling
Last Friday night on the train going home, I was chanting quietly pretty much to myself with my headphones on, when I notice the woman seated in front of me becoming agitated. She tilted her head back, into the crook between the window and the seat and howled a few times as if she were answering a wolf call. She did this a number of times on the 2 hour journey home.
Now, I know my voice isn't smooth as silk. But I'm pretty sure I also don't howl like a dog. And given the amount of noise going on in the train, it's a mystery to me that she heard me at all. Not only was there the usual throng of people talking to one another, and talking on their cell phones, but the new thing is these walkie talkie phones which emit a nerve-racking beep everytime the speaker changes -- not to mention that we now get to hear both sides of the conversations. Add to that the clackety clack, clack clack of the train on the tracks, and the booming voice of a man who seemed to have a clergy collar on, but was striking up one sided conversations with anyone who would listen -- and the fact that I could hear all this while quietly chanting to myself. Well, you get the picture, I'm sure.
At first I was embarrassed, mortified, humiliated into silence. But I hadn't taken my headphones off, and slowly began chanting again. And thinking about whether I was the one being rude, by refusing to stop singing. Finally, it became clear to me, that the woman who was annoyed by the sound of my voice in song had every right to be annoyed, but also had the mobility to move, as I do myself when there's a shrieking kid and I have a headache, or some other annoyance I just can't bear.
And that gave me the comfort I needed to continue my chants as quietly as possible, without feeling threatened or that I was somehow misbehaving in public.
Of course, had she simply leaned over nicely and asked me what I was singing, and would I mind not doing so because she had a headache or was super sensitive to sound, I would have been happy to stop or move. But her reaction was so twisted it really was a magnificent teaching, giving me pause to really consider the situation and investigate how I felt and why.
I've been doing a lot of investigating lately. And today I took a new yoga class at Shri Yoga and the instructor was guiding us to think of our past as something that supported us in our journey into the future.
She used the body - specifically our legs -- as connective metaphors. In the Warrior II pose, our back legs, straightened, were the past which supported us; our front legs, bent and leaning, were the future.
She told us also about a friend she'd spoken to in the morning, who'd said she always takes some time in the morning to remember who she is.
It was a wonderfully challenging class physically, and refreshing spiritually. Every ounce was engagement, from ears to lungs to little toes.
Now, I know my voice isn't smooth as silk. But I'm pretty sure I also don't howl like a dog. And given the amount of noise going on in the train, it's a mystery to me that she heard me at all. Not only was there the usual throng of people talking to one another, and talking on their cell phones, but the new thing is these walkie talkie phones which emit a nerve-racking beep everytime the speaker changes -- not to mention that we now get to hear both sides of the conversations. Add to that the clackety clack, clack clack of the train on the tracks, and the booming voice of a man who seemed to have a clergy collar on, but was striking up one sided conversations with anyone who would listen -- and the fact that I could hear all this while quietly chanting to myself. Well, you get the picture, I'm sure.
At first I was embarrassed, mortified, humiliated into silence. But I hadn't taken my headphones off, and slowly began chanting again. And thinking about whether I was the one being rude, by refusing to stop singing. Finally, it became clear to me, that the woman who was annoyed by the sound of my voice in song had every right to be annoyed, but also had the mobility to move, as I do myself when there's a shrieking kid and I have a headache, or some other annoyance I just can't bear.
And that gave me the comfort I needed to continue my chants as quietly as possible, without feeling threatened or that I was somehow misbehaving in public.
Of course, had she simply leaned over nicely and asked me what I was singing, and would I mind not doing so because she had a headache or was super sensitive to sound, I would have been happy to stop or move. But her reaction was so twisted it really was a magnificent teaching, giving me pause to really consider the situation and investigate how I felt and why.
I've been doing a lot of investigating lately. And today I took a new yoga class at Shri Yoga and the instructor was guiding us to think of our past as something that supported us in our journey into the future.
She used the body - specifically our legs -- as connective metaphors. In the Warrior II pose, our back legs, straightened, were the past which supported us; our front legs, bent and leaning, were the future.
She told us also about a friend she'd spoken to in the morning, who'd said she always takes some time in the morning to remember who she is.
It was a wonderfully challenging class physically, and refreshing spiritually. Every ounce was engagement, from ears to lungs to little toes.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Friday, April 14, 2006
Magic Class Graduation
I think the last memorable thing before I came to Batu Pahat was the TzuChi Magic class graduation ceremony. Talking about TzuChi, I joined this organization few years back after participating in one activity "Caring day for the lonely elder" in Singapore. That was the first time I heard of it, and was deeply inspired by it. It is a volunteer-based, non-profit organization founded by Dharma
Thursday, April 13, 2006
KENT, Pure Magic & Dunhill Shows
Think it's been quite some time I didn't update my blog..hmm let's just make a summary of what happened in these few months..before my memories fade! Where should I start..hmm first of all MMF had its second gathering at Fish&Co in Sunway Pyramid. Needless to say, this was another successful one and was merrier than the 1st. The highlight of the day would be Baalan was invited to perform to our
Sunday, April 9, 2006
juggling
How many projects can you keep in the air at one time? That's a question I often ask myself, as I have a tendency to spread myself pretty thin. Last week I added yet another ball to the many already in play. I am leasing a space at the local antique market, The Carousel, a multi-vendor store that's just up the road from the house.
When I was growing up in Poughkeepsie, The Carousel was a bar and I remember going there once or twice, drinking sloe gin fizzes, and worrying that my parents would kill me if they knew where I was. At that time, Stanfordville was really the boonies. Now, it's become a part of the sprawl that is New York City. When my ex and I first bought the house, the only other New Yorkers up here had fled the Bronx years ago. People used to call me "Miss New York". Now, city folk are a dime a dozen. Many have moved up here full time. And there are a fair share of McMansions.
Today was the first day I had a chance to get outside and do some raking. The leaves are all matted and rotting from last Spring. I can't remember ever getting to it this early. Usually I am wrestling with more undergrowth, but I seem to have gotten a head start this year.
It's a completely false sense of accomplishment. The yard gets out of control so quickly here. I never have enough time or money to do the planning and planting that so desperately needs to be done. But I love the wildness of it too. And at this time of year, I can enjoy feeling hopeful, enjoy the buds about to burst, and not worry too much about my unruly yard.
Inbetween two bouts of yard work, I took a hike over at Buttercup to check up on the deer carcass I'd found a week or two ago. Still there, not dragged off by the coyotes. So I'm hopeful I'll still have a chance at those two hoofs I need for a rattle.
On the train ride here, I snapped some pics of the city in motion. Another study. Maybe for drawing. Maybe for painting. Maybe for no reason at all.
But back to juggling, and why I've added yet another seeming distraction. In truth, it's a solution to a problem that's been nagging me for years. I've amassed collections of everything from suitcases to plates. Antiques, yard sale finds, cast offs from my mother's annual garage sales. A lot of artists have an insatiable collecting streak. Maybe it's an aethetic thing. Maybe it's a hole in ourselves we're trying to fill. But at some point the "things" become oppressive. And maybe that's an age thing - or just a point we all reach somewhere along the line. I've been collecting these things in my kitchen for 3 years - with the intention of having a yard sale that never quite happens. For one thing, pulling together a yard sale takes quite a bit of planning. And like I said, I never have enough time.
But back to the Carousel. I stop by there a couple of times a year thinking that it might be fun to do. And this time when I stopped and dreamed, I realized it was actually a way to get everything out of the kitchen in pretty much one fell swoop - with an opportunity to perhaps put a bit of my art in as well. So far I've just got the first load in - with more on the way.
I've got vintage clothing, a ton of silver deposit glass and lots of other antiquey odds and ends that I am really ready to part with. It's a really freeing feeling to let go of so much. I want to make more and more room for working with and living with my art. And that means taking a little bit of a side trip for a while. Of course I hope that this new venture will be profitable as well, but for the time being I'm just so excited to be seeing floor and wall space I haven't seen in years. And ultimately I fully expect to be able to start using the room that used to be my studio, but had turned into an oversized dumping ground. Like I said, I'm making headway. It's spring cleaning on steroids.
When I was growing up in Poughkeepsie, The Carousel was a bar and I remember going there once or twice, drinking sloe gin fizzes, and worrying that my parents would kill me if they knew where I was. At that time, Stanfordville was really the boonies. Now, it's become a part of the sprawl that is New York City. When my ex and I first bought the house, the only other New Yorkers up here had fled the Bronx years ago. People used to call me "Miss New York". Now, city folk are a dime a dozen. Many have moved up here full time. And there are a fair share of McMansions.
Today was the first day I had a chance to get outside and do some raking. The leaves are all matted and rotting from last Spring. I can't remember ever getting to it this early. Usually I am wrestling with more undergrowth, but I seem to have gotten a head start this year.
It's a completely false sense of accomplishment. The yard gets out of control so quickly here. I never have enough time or money to do the planning and planting that so desperately needs to be done. But I love the wildness of it too. And at this time of year, I can enjoy feeling hopeful, enjoy the buds about to burst, and not worry too much about my unruly yard.
Inbetween two bouts of yard work, I took a hike over at Buttercup to check up on the deer carcass I'd found a week or two ago. Still there, not dragged off by the coyotes. So I'm hopeful I'll still have a chance at those two hoofs I need for a rattle.
On the train ride here, I snapped some pics of the city in motion. Another study. Maybe for drawing. Maybe for painting. Maybe for no reason at all.
But back to juggling, and why I've added yet another seeming distraction. In truth, it's a solution to a problem that's been nagging me for years. I've amassed collections of everything from suitcases to plates. Antiques, yard sale finds, cast offs from my mother's annual garage sales. A lot of artists have an insatiable collecting streak. Maybe it's an aethetic thing. Maybe it's a hole in ourselves we're trying to fill. But at some point the "things" become oppressive. And maybe that's an age thing - or just a point we all reach somewhere along the line. I've been collecting these things in my kitchen for 3 years - with the intention of having a yard sale that never quite happens. For one thing, pulling together a yard sale takes quite a bit of planning. And like I said, I never have enough time.
But back to the Carousel. I stop by there a couple of times a year thinking that it might be fun to do. And this time when I stopped and dreamed, I realized it was actually a way to get everything out of the kitchen in pretty much one fell swoop - with an opportunity to perhaps put a bit of my art in as well. So far I've just got the first load in - with more on the way.
I've got vintage clothing, a ton of silver deposit glass and lots of other antiquey odds and ends that I am really ready to part with. It's a really freeing feeling to let go of so much. I want to make more and more room for working with and living with my art. And that means taking a little bit of a side trip for a while. Of course I hope that this new venture will be profitable as well, but for the time being I'm just so excited to be seeing floor and wall space I haven't seen in years. And ultimately I fully expect to be able to start using the room that used to be my studio, but had turned into an oversized dumping ground. Like I said, I'm making headway. It's spring cleaning on steroids.
Sunday, April 2, 2006
springing
It's amazing to me how suddenly all forms of life appear as soon as it warms up a bit. Throughout the winter, there's always an odd spider or mosquito in the house, but this weekend we had a wasp, an undentified ant like bug with a beautiful red tail, and a number of moths. In fact there's one fluttering right now, right outside the window where I've moved my lap top and desk.
Like the crocuses and other early spring bulbs that seem to pop out of nowhere, overnight - these signs of life are always welcome. I like the little insect surprises. There's something about them that fascinates me. Where do they come from? How did they get in here? I try my best to scoop them up and take them back outside where they belong.
I haven't seen a lot of deer this season. Maybe I've just been too busy, or not getting up early enough. Maybe, because the winter's been so mild they're not hanging out in my yard as much foraging for food. I haven't found many animal bones this season either, although to be honest, I haven't exactly been hunting for them.
So today, it was a nice surprise while hiking in Buttercup, to come upon 7 doe grazing upwind from me. I was able to stand and watch them for a nice long while. Because they didn't have my scent, they weren't spooked, and I could take them in. Their shapes in the distance. The graphic display of their tails, looking something like an African mask when in the down position. When they run, the tail pops up and is all white.
Likewise, I was suprised to come upon a deer carcass a little way down the trail. It's amazing how quickly they decompose, get torn apart, and still there's tons of fur all about. I dragged it off to the side of the trail in the hopes of going back tomorrow or next week. There were a few hoofs still there, and I am still collecting those to make a rattle.
Friday, March 17, 2006
jean houston
Writing this from work, so I'll have to add links later. For some reason, the Mac at the office won't allow me to create links.
Last night I went to a free lecture by Jean Houston at the Westside Y. I've heard so much about her over the years, but never had the opportunity, and to be honest, her workshops are bloody unaffordable for me.
She is a larger than life personality. Very dramatic. Exciting and enticing. Her talk was about Social Artistry which is a spiritual/mythic approach to addressing the multudinous wounds of the world.
What I love about a lecture like this, is that it appeals to a higher mind, intellectually. This isn't a Dummie's Guide to anything. Although Houston admitted to having studied The Dummies Guide to Magic recently while recovering from pneumonia in bed for seven weeks. And that's a testament to her energy force, I suppose. I am left wondering why anyone recovering from pneumonia would take up a new hobby, but at the same time, totally understand that some people are truly driven. Houston referred to this sense of urgency, as having the hounds of heaven at one's heels.
It's thrilling to be in a not-too large room, with a human being who is so profound and passionate. Admittedly, despite the fact that this woman's life work is in helping others be of service to humanity, and is herself, her speech is loaded with references to her many accomplishments. So she seemingly has a huge ego to match her personality. But she is a story teller who keeps you rapt, whether she is telling her own, or that of indigenous cultures.
One of the things she told us was that she made a decision a long time ago to offer her services free 6 to 9 times for every honorarium she receives. This allows her to work in ghettos, and I imagine to give free lectures like this one.
It's a bit shocking that the room and the attendance was so small. This is a woman who worked with Margaret Meade for many years, and is a contemporary of Joseph Campbell (she mentioned others, who I'm not as familiar with).
Apparently Hillary Clinton adores her. And Berstein of Woodward and Bernstein fame is after her - which she's not happy about because she likes to stay under the radar in a way that allows her to do the work she does without anyone getting too upset about it.
She was in town working with youth at the UN, striving for new paradigms of communication and conflict resolution. And she told a touching story of an Israeli and Hamas girl who were able to connect and communicate with one another through belly dance where they could not in words. A story that harkened back to one she told earlier in the evening of an indigenous African? tribe which she was sent to study by Meade, that had no history of violence or conflict. It was not that they were without problems, but when a problem arose, it was resolved in dance, by the entire community. They danced the problem. They danced the solution.
Last night I went to a free lecture by Jean Houston at the Westside Y. I've heard so much about her over the years, but never had the opportunity, and to be honest, her workshops are bloody unaffordable for me.
She is a larger than life personality. Very dramatic. Exciting and enticing. Her talk was about Social Artistry which is a spiritual/mythic approach to addressing the multudinous wounds of the world.
What I love about a lecture like this, is that it appeals to a higher mind, intellectually. This isn't a Dummie's Guide to anything. Although Houston admitted to having studied The Dummies Guide to Magic recently while recovering from pneumonia in bed for seven weeks. And that's a testament to her energy force, I suppose. I am left wondering why anyone recovering from pneumonia would take up a new hobby, but at the same time, totally understand that some people are truly driven. Houston referred to this sense of urgency, as having the hounds of heaven at one's heels.
It's thrilling to be in a not-too large room, with a human being who is so profound and passionate. Admittedly, despite the fact that this woman's life work is in helping others be of service to humanity, and is herself, her speech is loaded with references to her many accomplishments. So she seemingly has a huge ego to match her personality. But she is a story teller who keeps you rapt, whether she is telling her own, or that of indigenous cultures.
One of the things she told us was that she made a decision a long time ago to offer her services free 6 to 9 times for every honorarium she receives. This allows her to work in ghettos, and I imagine to give free lectures like this one.
It's a bit shocking that the room and the attendance was so small. This is a woman who worked with Margaret Meade for many years, and is a contemporary of Joseph Campbell (she mentioned others, who I'm not as familiar with).
Apparently Hillary Clinton adores her. And Berstein of Woodward and Bernstein fame is after her - which she's not happy about because she likes to stay under the radar in a way that allows her to do the work she does without anyone getting too upset about it.
She was in town working with youth at the UN, striving for new paradigms of communication and conflict resolution. And she told a touching story of an Israeli and Hamas girl who were able to connect and communicate with one another through belly dance where they could not in words. A story that harkened back to one she told earlier in the evening of an indigenous African? tribe which she was sent to study by Meade, that had no history of violence or conflict. It was not that they were without problems, but when a problem arose, it was resolved in dance, by the entire community. They danced the problem. They danced the solution.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
work in progress
Since the first week in January I have been documenting the disintegration of nail polish on my toes as a metaphor for impermanence. The idea for the project came from two of the practices I practice: chanting and meditation. With a little bit of commerce mixed in.
I've made a living for most of my life as a beauty writer. So it was a bit of an augury one day to notice that the toe nail polish I'd been allowing to wear away was a symbol of my adult life, and life in general. The more I devote to art, the less attached I am to earning a living as a writer. This wearing away of attachment is not unlike the Zen concept of Ren Ma, or polishing. The two seem sister concepts.
So that's what the pics above are all about. Just a glimpse at what I hope will one day be a full exhibition. It's been just over 3 months and the polish isn't completely worn away. I give it another month or two until the nails are pristine and polish-free.
And I think I will start the project all over again. What I've discovered is that in documenting the disappearance of color, my life is in the background, literally.
And, that the feet or toes become somewhat personified. The photos become portraits.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
woodstock art
Drove over to Woodstock last night for Marlen Wiedenbaum's opening at The Woodstock Artists Association. I don't get over to Woodstock as much as I'd like and when I do, I kind of wish I were still a shopper. It would be nice to wander around town more. But, I don't shop because I don't want to spend money on things I just don't need. And I hate the temptation created. So I avoid it like the plague. Window shopping just hold much interest for me. I'd rather look at art.
And Marlene's was well worth the drive. Her pastels are gorgeous. Most of them regional, many of Minnewaska , but some of Italy and other foreign locales. Lots of stone, water and woods. Plus a teapot series which apparently started as a study of shapes and became a psychological window into the people behind the teapots -- those who loaned or gave them as gifts to the artist.
I have to say, I've never been a huge fan of the classics: painting, drawing, sculpture. In their classic forms. But artists like Marlene crack my head and heart open. I've often said I am most changed by the art I initially like the least. It not only grows on me, but makes me grow. I have enormous admiration for the skill and patience it takes to do this sort of work. And probably, I am a bit jealous. My eyes see differently; I am not a realist in any sense of the word.
I remember speaking with Marlene a year or so ago, at a time when she was just scaling back her job obligations to devote herself more fully to her art. At that time she seemed a bit apprehensive. But at the opening she was beaming. There were quite a few red dots, indicating that work had sold. And when I spoke with her she said she'd been able to spend about 4 months totally absorbed in her painting -- but also works as a freelance graphic designer.
Most artists have to work to earn a living. Not necessarily full time. But creatively. I'm one of the most optomistic people I know. And I do believe that you can earn a living full time from your art. But realistically, unless you've got someone else paying the bills, the health insurance, etc. it's difficult to make the jump. Not impossible. Just not always the most plausible thing in the world. And what's important at the end of the day as far as I'm concerned is that we live as artists and work as artists, whether we've got to hold down a job other than our art or not.
I'm not a big fan of the art marketing trend that claims we can all be financially successful artists if only we create business plans and network properly and hand out our business cards every chance we get. For those of us who have worked in business for many years before returning to our art, the cookie cutter approach is annoying at best. And it smacks of exactly the same kind of corporate mumbo jumbo we are trying to get away from. I am personally more interested in ideas than in commerce. When we dedicate ourselves to the true things we are blessed and born to do, our lives are our riches.
Addendum: I ran across this link while arts surfing and thought it was relevant to what I'd written above about artists working for a living.
Monday, March 6, 2006
drawing on life
I've started drawing again. Prompted by Danny Gregory's blog, Everyday Matters. Another practice on the path. I am trying to draw at least once a week. Every day for me just would be too much pressure. I don't need another "to do" on my list. I want to enjoy my practices, find solace and meaning in them. Discipline is important, but don't need another taskmaster. I meditate. I study karate. I chant. I make art. And now I draw. These should be enough practices for a life time of discovery. Each one brings a little something new to the path and the process. But my biggest quest is still, stillness. And if I don't have enough of that, none of the other practices are worth a moment's attention. It's out of the stilliness that all else is born. Just talking about it calms me down.
I was headed for a rant about sitting in an office all day when I would rather be home working on my art. But just writing a bit about these practices brings their gifts into the moment even though I am not officially practicing. Could blogging be a practice? I imagine it could. And perhpas if I considered it as such, I would get to it more often.
I was headed for a rant about sitting in an office all day when I would rather be home working on my art. But just writing a bit about these practices brings their gifts into the moment even though I am not officially practicing. Could blogging be a practice? I imagine it could. And perhpas if I considered it as such, I would get to it more often.
Wednesday, March 1, 2006
from the art of new york mardi gras gala
Last night was the Mardi Gras bash for From the Art of New York, an art auction to benefit the Gulf Coast.
It was a lovely event. Great people, great food. And hopefully, great fundraising. Above, just a few pics, which will have to stand in for words. As I'm feeling a bit speechless today.
The website seems already to have been taken off line, which seems odd to me. But I guess these things are over when they are over. (ADDENDUM: The website is still up; must have had some technical difficulty on one end or the other. Google, From the Art of New York - I'm blogging from work and can't make links from the Mac.)
I don't believe my work got any bids unfortunately, but I heard that Cue, the art gallery and foundation, would be creating some kind of permanent exhibition for whatever work had not sold, in hopes of continuing attention and fundraising.
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