a few more...

Never to old to learn something new

who knew that working as an unpaid volunteer at a literacy non-profit and moving across the country (again!) would inspire a new hobby! It's my way of maintaining sanity and provides my "unplugged" hours of the day.

Too easy

Too easy

20-something

An ocean breeze whirs through my open window. I can smell the damp salt sticking to my curtains. My back aches and my fingers don't move quite as nimbly as they used to; staring at a computer screen day in and day out, for pleasure and work has only meant a thicker prescription for my eye-wear. It's just about September 1st and another year has gone by, a year from last September when I was just about to embark on a new city, a new travel adventure. Here I sit, one year later and it's the same story, different setting. My friends and I seem to be caught in the trap of our 20s, not a bad trap mind you; a curious and illuminating culmination of our youthful "go with the flow" attitude and the demise of our economy. It's not what we expected our 20-something year to be. So many tears, so many nervous laughter moments at in-appropriate times, so many what if's and maybe I should have's...
Thanks to a brilliant woman whom I admire greatly I have just discovered Alan Watt's "The Nature of Consciousness" which I think we can all benefit from experiencing. Another delightful person in my life shared New York Times article on my generation's "growing up" crisis.
It's scary to have so much before you and so many questions that will only be answered with time. never directly, always in hindsight. It's the bittersweet reality of existence. We cannot know, we must experience and as 20-somethings, we have a lot more of that to do.

Sunset over Westchester (L.A.)

This is how you know.

I am staring down at my toes, the sand is warm and slightly coarse creating a tickling and yet calming sensation on the sole of my feet. The waves gently splash, playfully at my heels as though they are teasing me. My earbuds are in for my iPhone and I adjust the volume, the sound loud enough to hear my Steve Miller band "Jet Airliner" but soft enough to still hear the sound of the waves lapping behind me. I go to put the phone in my pocket and my heart dips and skips a beat when I almost lose grip and drop it on the beach--but I catch it and glance around hoping no one saw my utter clumsiness and dreading the almost possible scenario of losing the brand new iPhone I have only just gotten.
It's just then that I notice my toes are dry, the sand around me is compact hard and wet yet, untouched by water? Just as I glance behind me there is a shadow creeping up from my ankles to my waist to my shoulders and I see it--a giant wave approaching quickly from behind and I panic! Like lightning I dash forward, dare I say I flew? It was as though my feet knew no gravity and I took off but alas! The wave knew my route and crashed on me from above sending me forward and under. It lasts merely a second or two. I stand up, drenched and look around again and while there are people playing in the dunes ahead, no one has just borne witness to my experience.
And then I see it.
My iPhone.
Its orange case twinkling in the water, sun reflecting on its screen. My heart sinks, ear buds floating. It's dead.
And then I wake up.
And then I realize--I have a problem.

I just had a nightmare about my iPhone dying.

Tumbleweed

It is interesting to me how time tends to gather and bulge, we have an abundance and then all in an instant it seems to be rapidly slipping through our hair strands and the air itself is absorbing it.

I have been in New York now for 9 (almost 10) months. My sense of direction has greatly improved, I do not fear the subway, I do not acknowledge the sexism displayed by side-comments and stares of strange men. I do not fear, though I still am saddened by, the homeless on the streets--the starkness of poverty against the polished tall corporate buildings. I have made a life here after having started literally with nothing. I did it. I made it. As my time in New York is quickly coming to an end, I often catch myself gazing at the streets and observing the people and the level of content I can read on their faces. Some I feel are satisfied and fulfiilled with their life...the vast majority sit stone faced, dull eyed and are the type of people where they wait for things to happen; they do not go out and MAKE things happen. This too, makes me sad.

Some important lessons have been learned here.

As unsteady and scared I am to be an adult in an uncertain world; unsure of where I am going to end up in my life, I know who I am deep within. I have certain morals, beliefs and core principles that I have held true within me and if New York City didn't make me compromise those, then I am confident that no one and no place ever will.

Sadly, my life has already been touched by the fragility of being a human far too many times. And, it shall continue to have moments where that fragility is slapped in my face time and again until it is my own time to face it. With that being said, tp be aware and truly conscious of our human life and the predicament of that condition, is a gift. I do not walk blindly through my life any more. I open my eyes to the possibilities, the tragedy, the comedy and the love within my lifetime.

I make a great attempt to surround myself with people who will help me succeed in my goals, in happiness and who also feel like I can help them with theirs. I believe that is the purpose and importance of having a variety of friends; each one has something unique and valuable to add to the relationship. I feel sad and once again lonely at the prospect of moving (back across the country) to another new place, another new job, and have to find another group of friends. It intimidates me and while yes, I am confident I will be okay--I can't help but think back to those months after moving to New York when I felt terribly alone and depressed. The world was distant from me and no one near me knew me or could provide me with a hug to comfort me...the people who I share my secret with couldn't feel the whisper of my breath on their ear or the tears on their palms. I was just an echo across a wire, a signal...a sound.

It is a question.

Golden light permeates my eye lids. I thought I had pulled the curtain tight? I want to shut out the light--and sleep. I want to inhale the fresh scent of clean cotton sheets, it is a smell that makes me feel clean, too.

The voluptuous pillows circling my head, my body, with one tucked between my legs to make me feel safe and connected. No, these legs are not entwined with others. No, these arms are not holding another, and no, these are not meeting a pair of just awoken-sleep-filled-eyes.
This is me, on my own, all alone and satisfied.

As I reach for my clock, I pause for just a moment...it's an action (or inaction) I'v become accustomed to lately--stopping and taking in the moment, a simple joyful, purely-mine-moment.

The morning shimmer is still waiting to be let in and I finally release the anticipation and there it is: my world.

The breeze catches me on my right ear lobe, sending a shiver down my spine. I can feel the sturdy stone beneath my body and know it's presence is eternal. I have t wonder what it must be like to be eternal? Your destiny laid out before you--never moving but always changing.
Moments of time whisper in my hair as the scent of home trickles from m mind. The trees ebb as the wind flows through the foggy memories of swing sets and snow caves.

Where is the truth? The reality? Do I betray my senses and defy my own gravity? Words create images, images create memories and the question is: what will I create for my tomorrows yesterday?

Web album: Amnesty Int'l Human Rights Art Festival

This is the link for the photos I took this past weekend. Mostly documenting the amazing farm I stayed at but also capturing a bit of the festival activities too.


http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=HSSheldon&target=ALBUM&id=5464998158286808321&authkey=Gv1sRgCPjm9PuQ4dromgE&feat=email

My New York

My favorite colors

The winter almost always compels me to cook with rich and vibrant colors to help awaken the senses from the cold and dark. Here are a few of my recent dishes as well as a few beautiful desserts that I've had and couldn't resist taking a picture--though sadly, I cannot take credit for baking them!

Sometimes we can't see what is right in front of us

i awoke to the sun streaming across my face this morning and blue sky peeking out from behind my dark brown curtains. The warmth only deepening my resolve to remain in bed while the light encouraged my senses to twitch. After many hours of determining what i wanted to do with my day off, i decided to meander the east side of central park since it is a mere three blocks from my apartment. along the way i passed a sign that read "reality center" and i paused. This caught my attention as lately i have been pondering over so called reality and the things that capture our sense of what that is. the earthquake in Haiti, the war in Iraq, our political systems, the people we interact with on a daily basis..truth..what is reality? i was about to abort (or at the very least postpone) my central park excursion to inquire at this "reality center" and see if they could perhaps enlighten me, provide me with the answers we all seek at some point in time...when i noticed the sign again...

"Realty Center."

Ah. Not the home to answers of existential questions , but questions about finding a home.

Central park east it was.

The very least I could do

Yesterday my co-worker Cristina and I decided that we needed to do something to help the people in Haiti affected by the earthquake. After less than 12 hours, she and I had created vigil and donation drive that took place in Union Square. It was so great to be able to put together something so impromptu and have it be successful! We raised $118.45 in 2 hours of holding signs and asking people on the street. There was definitely a mix of reactions to people, some of which surprised and saddened me, others were warm and grateful for our presence. We decided to put the money that we raised towards planning a larger more formal fund-raising event to benefit 1 or 2 beneficiaries--perhaps an orphanage and the Red Cross or Yele Haiti.

I watched a new segment with Wyclef Jean who is in Haiti right now with his wife, and the death toll they are estimating is 500,000 people. Honestly, I have a hard time fathoming such absolute devastation. While out asking for donations I had a man holding a sign "Jesus is coming" and yelling at me "Haiti's people are going to Hell! God was ridding the world of their sins--all the babies of Haiti will die!" and it shook me...I know he obviously had some mental stability issues, but that such hatred exists within a human mind deeply saddens me. A nice man walking by at the same time shook his head, came over to me and said, "just ignore him" but it was hard to ignore. A woman came up to me later and thanked me for helping her people...we're all people, shouldn't we all feel some sense of obligation and responsibility to help in any way we can?

It's the least I could do to take a few hours of my day and collect donations. I am excited to start planning a real fundraiser event! I have musicians, spoken word artists and hopefully a skit..maybe a big name actor if I can pull it off...now I just have to organize and mobilize!

In Honor Of MLK Jr Day, just a piece of something I am working on.

A siren. The distance closes in on the sound as it fades again
whooshing past are the cracked vocals and whining of the red pulsing lights
the reality never sets in as the box on wheels with real lives inside is sheltered from our reality.

An explosion. The distance is unmentionable though the fear is not. A child cries, a soldier's tears are brushed aside, a mother lays in her daughters arms as her son and father lay slain at her side. protect. protection. safety. she thought they were here to be rescued, not hunted.

How does it all get rationalized?
Freedom.
Democracy.
Freedom.
Hope.
Freedom.
National Security.
Freedom.
Terrorism.
Freedom.
Capitalism.
Freedom.
Civilization.
Freedom.
The American People.
Freedom.
Freedom.
Freedom.

An upside down flag. The distance is nonexistent. It waves, tattered and shredded through the air as the meaning is forgotten; we are in so much more than desperate need.
A hand reaches through the barbed wire of lies and greed, and touches me.

We can not ignore any longer, that which has been in front of us for so long.
A piece of shrapnel clings to the flesh, clings to the conscience.
Steel bars fragment a face, a pair of sunken eyes, the light has faded from them and barely a human remains.
In the name of what do we evoke and sustain such behavior?
Such sheer inhumanity upon one another?
Claim righteousness and right-ness, but it is not, right.
We fought for freedom, we fought for rights, we fought for our sense of what humanness should be. We are shamed.
We are ill-tamed.
It is a fool who believes
we do all of this in the name of justice.
of peace.
of freedom.
of freedom.
Always that word: freedom.
What is freedom that we take lives so irreverently?
What is freedom that we foresake one another so easily?
What is Freedom, that we turn our backs on our very humanity?
WHAT is Freedom.
The right to breathe fresh air.
The right to be a child without fear.
The right to be of any shade of skin and not fear
for your life
for your family
for your Freedom
of speech
of human rights
Rights to have clean water
to have an education
to protest without fear of retribution
to not fear that your religion will enable a government to prosecute you on the basis of national security
that you will be given fairness and justice in the eyes of peers
before the public
that bias and prejudice will play no part within the law
that Law exists within Democracy
That Democracy perhaps, is not the only way
And, to be able to admit and suggest without the fear that you are being watched being tallied and waited for.
When we demand Freedom, what exactly are we demanding?