Fairytale of New York

 Everything New York does is spectacular. That's what makes it one of my favorite cities to visit.
But the Holiday season is particularly brilliant with jawdropping decorations and displays. My camera doesn't do it justice, but here are some shots of the city at Christmas

Macy's- making believers since the mid 1800's

 For me, the most spectacular window displays were at Saks 5th Ave. People lined the sidewalks to walk past the Fairytale windows...

why Grannie, what big teeth you have!

Sleeping Beauty- there was a film moon, much like the 1902 movie "A Trip to the Moon"and it would look at you and wink or smile..

this one is Repunzel walking on her hair like a tight-rope

 

snow white

    

 The other side of windows had a very glamourous turn of the 19th century fashion look..

 

As if crowd-drawing windows weren't enough, Saks also projected a light show onto the building, complete with dancing snowflakes and Rockette sounding music..

this is how it looks from across the street, in between light shows

Everybody knows that Rockefeller Center does a huge display for the Holidays. They are famous for their Nutcracker soldiers, Angels and their ginormous Christmas tree overlooking the skating rink. It is the scene of every Christmas movie that takes place in Manhattan. But to see it in person is quite another experience. One of the things I love about travel is how it allows me that sensory memory- when I see places I've been in photos or film, I know exactlty what it is like to stand there. 

everybody knows this guy

I know how the air felt, smelled and what was behind me as I took in the view. I remember how I came around the corner and my breath stopped because it was so dazzling.

   

stunning by day

 

or by night

yes, it's a New York Christmas cliche, but it made me all warm and fuzzy, dammit

 Our Brooklyn neighborhood was decorated as well- not in such a grand way, but it a beautiful community kind of way.

a Catholic Church in Park Slope

 

 

 

 

 

 

i heart new york

And then it was Christmas.

September to December flew by like leaves on a blustery day.
Halloween was a blur.
Work was crazy busy, the holiday was approaching...
and in the middle of it all, I took a trip to New York City.

As the Tshirt says, I heart NY.

"I've been to the city on many occasions, in every season, but never at Christmas..."
Barely had I said those words out loud when opportunity knocked, and I answered,  flinging the door open wide.
On the 10th of December, along with Terry, my friend of many years, I flew to Laguardia and then cabbed it to the Park Slope area of Brooklyn, where we were to stay with Barb, Terry's friend of many years.
Barb had decided to spend a month in New York, staying in three different locations during that time. We would be staying in the first of her living spaces, which was a wonderful apartment with mid-century modern decor. It was lovely and cozy and comfy, with enough space that we didn't feel like we were crowded on top of each other.

I was familiar with Brooklyn, as I used to stay in Bed-Stuy. But Park Slope offered a whole other experience, with different shops, restuarants, and the beautiful Prospect Park. I do love the Brooklyn vibe.

The main purpose of my visit was to photograph the city at Christmas time, and luckily, that was also a mandate of my companions so we traveled easily together.

On the cab ride from the airport I remarked how I hoped it would snow while we were there. By the time we drove into Brooklyn, giant flakes were hitting the windshield. The entire trip was an ask and you shall receive journey.

Brooklyn Bound

We arrived at our home in time for hugs, hello's and hightailed it back outside to walk in the winter wonderland. After a hearty meal at Enzo's we continued to explore our new hood.

Enzo's got some pretty big balls

Turning a corner, we were dazzled by lights and music. We had happily happened upon a tree lighting ceremony, complete with performance by a marching band. Then it was a beautiful walk by Prospect Park before heading home to sleep.

The next day was a full one...

With routes to plan...

And subways to catch...

clown car

And bridges to cross...

The Brooklyn Bridge heading into Manhattan

And pictures to take....

barb & terry

And food to eat...

Front Street Pizza in DUMBO, Brooklyn

And places to see...

Grand Central Station is grand

And more food to eat....

And places to be...

30 Rock

There was no real agenda for this trip, with one exception.
I wanted to go to the Top of the Rock (Rockefeller Center) just before sunset and photograph the city as the sky changed and the lights came on.  We bought tickets for four o'clock and the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

iphone panoramic

taken on my iphone

And this was just the first day.
The rest of the evening was spent wandering the bright streets of Manhattan, looking at the most amazing and mesmerizing window displays. But those shots will get a post all of their own. 

summer sigh

I knew this day would come.
This day, the 1st of September.
The end of the summer.

Sure there are still nice days ahead, but it's just not the same.
September is here. There is a feeling.
It was cool this weekend, so cool I had to shut my window for the first time in months.
Today it was so humid there was no relief.
Welcome to the East Coast.

I knew this day would come.
And it hits me with a panicked thought...
Now, every swim might be the last. 

It wasn't a bad summer. It wasn't a great summer. It was a fast summer.
Where it went, I still can't say. It washed away like sand in the tide. It was unstoppable.
It was a blur.

But there were beaches.
Not as often as I would like, but then it could never be enough.

The season was off to such a great start, as swimming began in early June. It was unbelievably warm, probably due to Hurricane Arthur that blew up the east coast. And though it didn't stay that warm, there were still some great days in the sand, sea and surf.

Kingsberg, Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia

And I managed to grab a few shots that I really liked

local oysters, local wine, local ocean

clam of clam harbour

eagle in wolfville

somewhere near annapolis royal

Cooked a bit..

watermelon and cucumber gazpacho

Then more beaches

queensland beach, nova scotia

melberby beach, nova scotia

and some time enjoying my city

halifax

As I said, not a bad summer.
I just don't know where it went.

always take the plunge

Yesterday I sat on the shore and watched a woman standing in the water.

I had already been in. It was great.
But taking the plunge is always the hardest part.

As a frequent swimmer in the North Atlantic,  I prefer to dive right in, instead of standing and shivering. But as I sat drying off on the beach, I watched the woman stand and shiver, and I wanted to yell "Go ahead, it will be great once you're in"

I was reminded of a quote by Goethe
"Plunge boldly into the thick of life, and seize it where you will, it is always interesting. "
and suddenly this woman became a metaphor for Capital L Life.

But I didn't shout out.
Instead, I took her picture

smile though your heart is breaking

Today I woke up to a world without Robin Williams.
 It is a sadder place.

The news came down yesterday, status' and tweets flowing like falling like tears. One of our brightest, our greatest has gone.
And what makes it harder is that he chose to leave.

Robin Williams has been a part of our lives for so long, it's hard to imagine that this zany, manic magic man is no longer with us.

It would have been sad if he had died suddenly due to accident or illness, but the fact that he chose suicide seems unfathomable. It always does. It is hard to get your head around the fact that someone so gifted, who touched so many,  had  suffered those demons and let them take him away.

I am unhappy to say that I have lost people to suicide. I'm sadder to say that I can no longer count on one hand how many. Each one is devastating. Each one rips a piece of you. It doesn't become easier, it only becomes familiar.

Whenever this happens, we remind ourselves, each other,  to cherish each other, each moment. But still, we are never prepared. It is always a shock, even if it is not a surprise.

We think how sad it is that the person who touched so many, could feel so alone.
We wish they knew how much they were loved.

They do.
They just don't understand why.

When you stand on the edge of that cliff you have only two views: the endlessness below or the emptiness behind. You only have two choices: fall forward or fall back. And when you choose to fall forward, into the abyss, it is because the emptiness behind is heavier. And when you stand at that edge, it is the saddest, loneliest,  darkest place you could ever be.

There are those who say that suicide is selfish.
But it is intended as the most selfless of actions.
It is meant, not just to end the suffering, but to end the burden of those who love you. So they don't have to helplessly watch what you've become. Or stopped being. 


Someone very dear to me once told me that mental illness was a trickster, that it sent those dark voices to fool you, to take you, but you shouldn't listen.
I wish every day that he had taken his own advice. I wish they all had.
But one by one, the stars go out, and a bit more darkness is let into the world.
 And all we can do is fumble around, and try to remember the light.


Carpe Diem.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veYR3ZC9wMQ

out of site..sight... sigh

Ummm... remember when a jet went missing with close to 300 passengers? And also when over 200 girls were stolen from their school? Why are we not still talking about this?

 I'm just baffled as to how this many people can disappear, and then don't matter past sensationalism and sound bites

idle no more

I haven't written in a while.
Nothing.
Nothing physical anyway. 

Every so often.. well, actually, very often, I write in my head. I compose and compile and compartmentalize. It's just a matter of getting it down.
But I don't get it down.
I am not down with getting it down.
I know it is bad when I procrastinate more on writing than I do on cleaning. In fact, I have been organizing my home more to avoid sitting down and making a commitment to a short story, a chapter.. hell, even a blog entry.

And therein lies the rub. Ish.
I have so many options, I can't decide on which one. I can't determine to which voice I should listen, and then give its own new voice.

It's the same way with too many choices on a menu.
No matter how hungry I am, if there are too many options, I have seen myself just leave.
And with writing, I will do the mindless equivalent ; sometimes I just play Candy Crush.
Or I used to play Candy Crush. Until I found out how much they track their players and it freaked me out and I deleted the game.
But I digress.

How my mind works. (It is also my habit to edit photo's I've taken so as to avoid writing.

 )

The point is no one's voice is being heard. Outside of my head, that is.
Oh I hear them. I hear them plenty. I see them as well.
They stare at me, speaking with their eyes
I am like the kid in the sixth sense who sees dead people.
Only I see fully formed unborn people, or pieces of people all stitched together to make a whole new one. I see these vehicles for stories and situations that need to come out and yet they sit, like a car idling in the garage.
It makes me want to go to sleep.

critiquing the critics

As a Theatre student, I was taught to be critical.
Constructively.

If we watched a scene, the director/professor would ask for opinions afterward. There was no such thing as simply saying "I liked it" because he would always push for why.

We began to dissect... everything. Lights, direction, acting, costumes, sets... to question every choice the production's director and actors made.

Sometimes I wish I never took that course.

There is no way I can separate myself from the critique.
Every time I watch a live performance my mind is constantly whirling, as ears, eyes and brain combine to make a fine tooth comb of analysis, running it through the hair of the performance as deliberate as looking for lice.
It happens with film, music and books as well, although I tend to be harder on the stage because this is where it began. It has just spilled over into other areas of art.

Of course there is nothing wrong with constructive criticism but I have to remind myself that not everyone has the same background, same experience.
But inevitably when I emerge from a performance, someone will ask the question
"what did you think?"

Ugh.

I'm sure friends who ask roll their eyes inward, waiting for me to hate it and tear it apart.
I should just say I liked it, and move on. But it doesn't sit well in my guts.
I'm sure it comes off as pompous, as if I think could do better.  I don't. Okay, in some cases I do, but in fairness, in some cases my cat could also do a better job.
 
One of my pet peeves with local theatre here in Nova Scotia is not as much with the productions, but with the audiences. It seems that people misunderstand the purpose of the standing ovation. It would appear that if anyone walks across a stage, it is applauded by jumping to your feet. But by far, the worst culprits are the local reviewers who always praise, never picking out anything that could and should be addressed, something  to be improved upon.

While it is very kind to want to be so supportive, it breeds mediocrity and unwarranted ego. How can an artist grow if s/he thinks they have no need to improve?
I'm not speaking of those critics who hate everything, who feel the need to tear it all down.
Criticism should be constructive, not destructive. It is meant to build toward something better, not to tear something down.

As a performer and director I have been reviewed many times and I can say that if the critique was favorable nine times out of ten, it was the tenth that stayed with me. As a person it is easy to take it personally. As a performer it should be taken as a gift. It puts a seed in the back of your mind that grows into other options, other choices.


However, with all of this being said, I have to remind myself that not everyone thinks this way. Some people enjoy a production simply because they found it entertaining.
I envy that.
It's not fun realizing that the Wizard is just a man behind the screen, or knowing the trick to every illusion.
Every time I answer the question "what did you think?" I obsess about my response for hours afterward. I worry that I offended someone or made them feel that their opinion was invalid.

While it may appear that I am too critical, it is nothing compared to my own review of my review.
Sadly, that voice is not a constructive one.

out with the old

Last year I gave myself a challenge

I would take a picture a day.
It didn't matter what the picture, what the content, it just had to be something I saw in the course of that day.
The purpose of this exercise was two-fold.
First, it was to provide a discipline, to get me in the habit of producing something every day and following it through for 365 days.

Secondly, it allowed me to really pay attention to, and be aware of, my surroundings.
And third, it enabled me to be creative.

This year I have issued myself another challenge.
I will still take a shot a day, but each week will follow a theme, and each photo will be my interpretation.


So here's my first offering.
It wasn't something I saw, it was something I staged; something I created.
The theme is "Out with the Old"

out with the Auld...lang syne

i have been both

not sure which scares me more

Year of Loss

There is something about New Year's Day that is so hopeful.

Last year, at the beginning of 2013 I was pumped.
I welcomed in the New Year with optimism and enthusiasm. 
It was like a new relationship that moved too quickly.
I believed it was special. But in the end, the year broke my heart.


It was a year of profound loss.
I lost friends. I watched friends watch loved ones suffer and be taken away.
I lost a relationship without warning, watched dreams vanish like steam on a mirror.


So, 2014, please understand if I am more than a little tentative.
Let's take our time. Let's not make promises we can't keep.
Let's get to know each other.
Let's be kind. 

Let's all make it out alive.

first sunrise of 2014