resolutions

normally i don't do resolutions, but this year i've been inspired to make a soulful list of intentions for 2008. i will be working on my list for the next several weeks. no need to have a december 31st deadline. but here's what i've come up with so far:

#1. surrender. complete surrender.
this is the big one. and the toughest. inspired by a sweet moment in a yoga class. probably one of the first yoga classes in which my body was not screaming at me every minute. my heart was open. i was accepting and receptive.
#2. more yoga. (see above)
#3. more fighting. i tend to buck up around promotion time and beg off afterwards. small injuries, and self preservation. but i think it might be time to be more consistent with my fighting practice. it may seem like a contradiction to the first 2 above, but it's actually a balance and comes from the same heart space.

birds of pray

Just a few pics of one of the pieces in a series I am working on. This one is Past, Present and Future/Mother, Maiden, Crone. There are 3 pieces in the series plus a number of drawings and water colors. One is already manifest but I don't yet have photos It was the first one, and came into being while I was at Omega. It is Past/Future and has the wings of a black bird.

Another is The Four Directions, and not yet started.

All three incorporate feathers and wings from birds of prey, and plastic doll faces I was gifted by my aunt many years ago. They travelled from east coast to west and back again with me. I somehow knew they had a larger purpose, and never tossed them. So utilizing them now is particularly gratifying.

They are creepy, I know, and I love them for it. The creepier my work gets the more I love it. Ultimately I'll have to write a new artist's statement for them. The bane of all artist's. But I love writing as much as I love making.

And today, while at my studio for a few hours working on some water color paintings, the words were flying in my head. Like I've said before: wish I could just plug a wire in.

But also: what a bunch of shit. All of it. Why we make what we make. The reasons. The rationales. Maybe it's because I lack an art school education. But my premise is that any art we make is simply another attempt to dig ourselves out of the dirt of our personal archeology. Depending on how self aware we are, and how honest, we can write an artist's statement that touches the depths of our own exploration. Even if we are removed a million degrees from the emotional touch stone, the intellectual exploration is still connected to it.

Try to convince me otherwise, but I believe in our humanity. I think everything is driven by it. Even if it drives us in the opposite direction.

Nice Music Video

Came across this clip and reaaally love it! It's the winner of the Dashboard Confessional "Make your own music video contest", creatively using pasteboards to present the song..and the song is cool! Definitely a highly entertaining vid..enjoy!=)

karma reincarnation and this life time

I've been thinking a lot about lifetimes. The lifetimes we circle around in this particular lifetime, and those before and after. I've often thought that the whole karma/reincarnation concept is, in addition to its intent as spiritual teaching, an actual metaphor for the actions we take in this lifetime. I'm sure this isn't an original thought. There must be someone out there teaching this as I write here.
Nevermind what the result of our actions will be in the next lifetime, but what about in this lifetime? If we keep taking the same actions over and over again, we are destined to experience the same sufferings. But switch things up a little and maybe we reincarnate on a little higher plane right here in this lifetime.
Part of what has me thinking about this at this particular time is of course the passing of my partner's father. But also the Metta or lovingkindness meditation I've been practicing more regularly. As I meditate for my own and others' happiness, peace, safety, freedom and ease, I think more about the type of person I'd like to be. The enlightened beings return to suffer along with us, with the vow to reincarnate until all beings every where are safe, happy and free.
In the midst of my own daily angst about things large and small, I have moments where I see the power and potential of all actions. When we act in love and kindness, from the heart, we can make a difference in the trajectory of our own lives and the lives of others.
Small things matter. Small kindnessess are great ones. And difficult times give us the opportunity of course to open our hearts wider, to ourselves and those who lives touch ours.

Thalassemia Family Day

Performed in the "Thalassemia Family Day" on 15th Dec, organized by paediatric department Hosp Taiping. The event took place in the famous spot, Zoo Taiping, but embarassingly to say, it was only my very first time to visit there after almost a year of working!=p



Performing to the staff nurses.
The show was kinda not so easy for me as I still find that card magic is generally more for the

i confess

As I was driving around this afternoon it crossed my mind that the blog is acting more like a confessional these days, than a source of inspiration. But I'm going with the flow. Sitting with what is.
The relief is that Larry's father has passed. A blessing really. And as sad as we are to lose him, we are grateful that his suffering is over. Now we can celebrate his memory and his life, mourn him as each of us does in our own way and time.
I continue to chant the Gayatria Mantra for him, and he lives in my heart always.
May we be safe. May we be happy. May we live with ease.
And rest in peace.

opposition

One of the interesting things about human experience is our ability to hold two opposing emotions, ideas, interests at the same time. While I suffer, I also take joy.
I remember this so clearly on September 11 when the World Trade Towers came down. I was filled with fear and sadness, but also the beauty of the natural world. It was as if the space created by loss could not remain empty, but filled of its own accord with its exact opposite: more beauty than my eyes, my spirit, my body could even contain.
And so it is that while I fill with anxiety and depression as my father-in-law passes, I also am hungry, starving for life. It's not so much a desire to escape, as a natural need for balance.
Flying out of Stewart Airport last Saturday, a girl behind the Quizno's counter reminded me that babies were being born as we spoke.
The flight to Philadelphia was empty. I had the entire prop plane to myself. Could see the lights below thru the propellers as they spun. Watched the landing gear unfold from the wings. It couldn't have been a more peaceful flight. Exactly what I needed as I prepared to keep my heart open and embrace the process and pain of a family that is as much my own as the one to which I was born.
That empty plane was such a gift. I am always in search of solitude and quiet. I am so grateful when it comes in unexpected places and ways.
At the same time, I yearn, as we all do, for connection and companionship. So I wake early this morning to enjoy the solitude of an empty house, morning light, slow sleepy body/mind. And can't wait to get outdoors, out into the world, into life.

Anniversary

Ya..if you do realize, 15th Dec 07 is a very, very important day to me. One complete year of service, signifies the end of my housemanship! Gosh the thrill is just so undescribable! One year, too much sweats and tears, too many ordeals to overcome, i'm truly glad that I survive, and survive well. It is ever challenging to new docs, and it'll surely be rewarding in the end, if you do pay serious

brand new day

After a very foggy headed morning thanks to too much vodka last night, I got outside and into the beauty of the snow. Call me crazy. I love to dig out. There's nothing like the way the air fills lungs with every shovel full.
I walked around shaking pine branches to relieve them of the wet weight of snow and stood beneath each shower of white.
But I am still feeling tender and fragile. With every heave ho of snow, I longed for the simplicity and ease of not being such a strong, independant being. But it's my nature. No use wishing otherwise.
So while I temper my own mourning process with compassion for those who are feeling more pain than I, the truth is I'm really angry. And I don't quite know what to do with it. I want to dance it out, dream it out, scream it out, spill it out.
The one thing I'm not feeling any interest in is art-ing it out. I'm sure as time passes, as Larry's father finally passes, a time will come, an idea will wash over me, and I will make some sacred momento.
But for now, I just want to be rescued, knowing full well that I work so hard at saving myself no one else possibly could.

Bye O&G

Finally, I finished Obs & Gyne posting, my last posting as a houseman. It's a huge relief, no doubt. I think no one would say it's easy to survive here, as O&G is an universally tough posting, wherever you are. The reason is being the environment and the ppl here are at all time super tensed up, due to that it's strictly no room for any minute error and every small thing can be medico-legal, that

death and dying

For a while at least, this may not be the most inspirational place in the universe. Death is a part of life. And has a lot of lessons to teach us, but is a bit tough to access unless you're in the midst of it. Which I most certainly am. And can admit, that when it hasn't touched me, I haven't been so compassionate about it.
I'm angry. Angry that a man who truly has touched so many lives with so much kindness and love, is dying slowly and without a great deal of dignity. It's hard to believe in a just god. Just as well that I'm a BuHuJew. All those Hindu dieties with all their arms and rage are much easier to believe in. And the Buddhist mantra "Gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi swaha" - which basically translates to "everything changes" - is much easier to swallow than the Judeo Christian ideology.
This is about the closest death and dying has come to me as a conscious adult. Larry's father has been slowly declining due to congestive heart failure for about a year. These are the last weeks, or days. I'm surprised at the grace that I've summoned from some unknown place. Goddess knows no one taught me how to be the light and life in a room filled with death. To find compassion and actually channel it for those who are suffering far more than me.
I give gratitude to Krishna Das, more than anyone for opening my heart to human suffering. A whole world opened up through chanting and kirtan. I wish there were a way to express my gratitude, to him and Neem Karoli Baba who is sending all the love straight thru him.
I'm into a few too many vodkas to express myself clearly enough. Perhaps another post in a more sober time.
There is a time and place for the bottle, and that time is now for me.
Right now I'm wallowing in anger. And that too is human after all.

virtual happiness

I've been spending a lot of time on the computer, surfing, reading new blogs this week. Unusual for me because after staring at the screen all day at work, the computer is the last place I want to be in my down time.
I'm far more likely to be knitting, meditating, reading a book. But everything about my life has been a little upside down lately. A month or two of minor injuries have kept me from karate, and that starts to keep me from my base line of sanity and -- happiness.
Thankfully, this week I'm back in the swing, and made it to two classes. Despite the upcoming holidays, I'm hoping to get back to my basic minimum of 3 classes a week. Just the two I got to this week catapulted me back into what feels like myself. Happy, peaceful, content and generally able to handle whatever comes my way.
One of the things that's come up for me while not being able to get my ya ya's out at karate though, is how to do it when I can't exercise at that high level of output. Maybe that's why I was first attracted to The Happiness Project, and have become slightly obsessive about it. Checking out the links on this blog have lead to others like Gitmundo which is such a breath of fresh air in a world that seems hell bent on bad news all the time.
I got this link to The Story of Stuff, from a friend, which although not filled with great envrionmental news, is at least a welcome relief to the obsessive consumerism that surrounds us particularly at this time of year. And this article from Yogamates has a great alternative to all that stuff.
Despite my voracious recycling, composting and repurposing I still need retail therapy more often than I'd like to admit. My newest alias and blog, Thriftzilla will I hope be an inspiration. Nothing makes me happier than scoring a great find.
Just one last link for holiday happiness from heart: Just Give.

walking and the wind

I try to take a walk up Stissing Mountain Road every weekend. For a long time, I opted for Buttercup Sanctuary instead, but lately I've been needing the steep incline and way it helps clear my head. Between a shoulder injury, a sprained ankle and a few other minor physical maladies, I haven't been getting my regular karate workouts, and frankly I'm not functioning all that well. I'm agitated, anxious, even on the verge of tears for no reason at all. Just not my usual happy self.
But being in nature settles me down, and while walking back down the mountain road, realizing I'd been lost in obsessive thought instead of appreciating the surrounding beauty, I stopped. The wind was wild, really tearing through the trees. I remembered a workshop I'd once taken over in Woodstock at Mirabai about listening intently to nature. So I asked the wind to gift me a lesson, to teach me what I needed to hear. And this is what I heard:
Sometimes it is windy. And sometimes it is calm. Ultimately the wind will die down. Life will not always be windy. Life will never be always calm.
The wind was still blowing as I continued down the mountain road, but the storm in my head had settled.
Now, back in the city, my monkey mind is getting the best of me again. I turn the tv on in an attempt to get out of my head, then turn it off because it only adds to the agitation. I do my metta (lovingkindness) meditation and find peace for a few moments in my heart.
Finally I take refuge in writing, inspired by the The Happiness Project to blog more consistently. Tomorrow night I hope to be back in black belt class, struggling to catch my breath and my balance. The harder the class is, the easier life is.
My doctor told me the other day that some people need a high level of physical activity to stay on an even keel. I love walking, but nothing calms me down like a karate class that leaves me sweaty and spent.
It's kind of like being at the center of the storm where it's calm. My body's doing all activity, so my mind can relax. My breath stirred up like the wind. My mind calm, and at a peace.

greetings from stanfordville, new york

I always wish I could just plug in my brain and download it straight to the computer. But my digital camera is as close as I can get to that. Visually anyway.

This scene is in the center of town at McKeogh's Farm and Home Center. I think it's post card worthy. I mean, you can get Stanfordville sweatshirts at the local drug store. Why not on location holiday postcards?

I have a photographer friend, Mimi Drop who does her own holiday cards -- every year a new take on Santa. She creates these amazing minature situations and then photographs them so they look as if she's captured a moment in real time. And I'm lucky enough to have that lovely lipstick on the napkin with knife and fork on my fireplace mantle.

Tonight, I'm fireless, but for incense and candles. And the fire within. That constant burning desire to create. This time of year especially, as the cold closes in, I dream of a life where the only work to do is not in office buildings and on computer screens, but in my hands, my heart and that unconscious place of creation.

I've rented a studio space in Saugerties for the last several months, and though I don't get to it nearly as often as I'd like, it is comforting to know the refuge is there. Even more important was making the commitment to myself as an artist. It's one of the 50 gifts I'm giving myself this year to celebrate my 50th birthday: 50 years/50 ways. Everytime I think I'm wasting money on rent, I remember what it feels like to walk into the empty space and take feathers, a stick, some wire in my hands, and surrender to the not knowing.

It's the safest place in the universe. And like the holiday scene in the center of Stanfordville, sometimes what I find there is beautiful, and sometimes it's just a bit bizarre.