Saturday, July 22, 2017


Mrs Dalloway
"A day in the life of Clarissa Dalloway, a fictional high-society woman in post–First World War England. All of the action, aside from the flashbacks, takes place on a day in June 1923. It's an example of sream of consciousness storytelling: every scene closely tracks the momentary thoughts of a particular character. Woolf blurs the distinction between direct and indirect speech throughout the novel, freely alternating her mode of narration between omniscient description, indirect interior monologue, and soliloquy."

"She thought there were no Gods; no one was to blame; and so she evolved this atheists religion of doing good for the sake of goodness”
"Clarissa had a theory in those days - they had heaps of theories, always theories, as young people have. It was to explain the feeling they had of dissatisfaction; not knowing people; not being known.
For how could they know each other?...

...You met every day; then not for six months, or years. It was unsatisfactory, they agreed, how little one knew people."
 "But she said, sitting on the bus going up Shaftesbury Avenue, she felt herself everywhere; not 'here, here, here'; and she tapped the back of the seat; but everywhere. She waved her hand, going up Shaftesbury Avenue."
"She was all that. So that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places."

"Odd affinities she had with people she had never spoke to, some women in the street, some man behind a counter - even trees, or barns."
or dimly lit passageways
 ...under construction sites.
Dear Virginia
This reader feels down low. got the low downs.
She seeks solace in spent lilies,
feels Fall signaling from the last bloom of hollyhock.
 "It ended in a transcendental theory which, with her horror of death, allowed her to believe, or say that she believed (for all her skepticism), that since our apparitions, the part of us which appears, are so momentary compared with the other, the unseen part of us, which spreads wide, the unseen might survive, be recovered somehow attached to this person or that, or even haunting certain places, after death.
Perhaps - perhaps."

The Hours
a 2002 British-American drama film directed by Stephen Daldry, and starring Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore and Nicole Kidman. Supporting roles are played by Ed Harris, John C. Reilly, Stephen Dillane, Jeff Daniels, Miranda Richardson, Allison Janney, Toni Collette and Claire Danes. The screenplay by David Hare is based on Michael Cunningham's 1999 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel of the same title. The plot focuses on three women of different generations whose lives are interconnected by the novel Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf...
2 excruciating hours and thirty minutes


Monday, July 17, 2017


I don't respond most of the time here. It's just a question of how much I can manage in my waking hours actually.  I love comments and do return to read them. I also read and sometimes comment on several other blogs almost every day--love them. My virtual family is so entertaining and informative, I can't imagine how I ever did without them.

(In the order they were taken)

This elegant wooden lacquered Raven decorates a table in the window of a furniture store in the neighborhood selling spare modern style. I'd be curious to know if it's actually resin or some other industrial substance and the manufacturers country of origin.

A  postcard I've held on to for a few years:
Portrait of Scot Borofsky by Jiyl Barrows, Photographer
 I edited to get just his head.

Two shots of my Kitchen Shelf...
 ...see the difference?

Next block over on East 20th Street--part of the former Cabrini Hospital where a friend found final relief in a caring hospice, staffed by excellent Philipine nurses, and where I spent ten days and a fine MD saved me from a life threatening infection. It has been gutted and will soon become market-rate housing. We can look forward to yet another increase in the metropolitan population. There's a twelve story building that's been under construction for many months on the south east corner of my block, so more to come.

The Rubin Museum
Block Party outside on West 17th Street

 Silk art in the shop
 Art on the walls of the cafe... prompts for thought.  Sadly, I didn't note the artist, but I did run into Babette Albens, a poet I've known for several years, there with her daughter Shira.
Outside Again
a traditional 'Stick Dance'... our line dancing with props that serve as percussion instruments,
and everyone encouraged to join in.
 Everyone was clapping in time to the music too.


After the vendors wrapped up, tables and chairs were collected and returned to the museum, I headed back East noticing this abandoned home-made signage...
...then crossed the street to Housing Works for an air conditioned break and met Peter Morely carrying his beloved thirteen year old canine companion. We had an illuminating and encouraging conversation about current politics.  He is an activist and advocate.

Almost Home
On the corner of East 22nd Street--this last shot I'm calling "Sacred-Bee-Balm"

Wednesday, July 12, 2017


Chronological order

False alarm on East 15th Street
(Three trucks and many men in full gear moving fast)

 Another major rehabilitation begins on East 23rd Street
 Some of my Neighbors early Saturday morning

Sunday Walk
Fairy Flowers
blooming on a tree at Gramercy Park
(shutter didn't open completely, and name escapes me)
After shopping for incense in Little India
a neglected empty lot on 28th Street
Berrying vine over the pine tree
Four-o-Clocks and more still thriving
Next door, in the parking lot back of Epiphany school
 Hidden Mary on a bright day
"Mary at Midnight"
(manipulated photograph)

heading to Writing Group
Planter on 2nd at 22nd Street
Clouds like Mountains
 Heading home
"Yuko" and "Ramda" posed when I admired the t-shirt
(bus stop on First Avenue at Houston)

Drawing from 2000 and the photograph it's based on.
(bought all these monkeys to give away at a satsang--"a Sanscrit word, meaning "to associate with Truth")
 Other Art Pieces
A 'sun' filled corner on a dark day
 Cheerful Rose

At the zendo for Practice
Birthday Cupcakes
 Hand sewn

Friday, July 7, 2017


Students at the entrance reading 
"Man of Peace"
(see link)
The woman in white and the man in black
Inside, the monks converse with each other
 and the Abbot

Photos from the solo Exhibition
by Jaroslav Poncar
(see link)
(eliminated the frame)

A restless child rolls and rolls around as soon as he arrived...
We made contact...
...became friends over the evening and had many whispering encounters. Later he became restless again till captured...
 ...gently tickled till he laughed in between protests
Time passed
Musicians set up equipment
Guests conversed.
 Monks took their places in front of the altar
Group chanting of the Long Life Prayer commenced
Out of respect, I took no photographs.
(just a sample of the sound)

Silence while waiting for cake
Two Cakes arrived
the 'ceremonial' first cut.
(Ganden, Bob and Nina Thurman with the Abbot)
More slicing
Traditional Tibetan Songs
Feasting and Farewell
 I walked home, stopping for two forgotten items at Trader Joe on fourteenth Street and found "Teddy" waiting patiently for my exhausted return at 10:30 PM.



Jaroslav Poncar