Philip Glass Open Sing in Times Square


Or, what I am now referring to it as: Another Great Thing I Won’t Have My Camera For. NPR commissioned a piece from Philip Glass, in honor of his 75th birthday. Anyone who wants to is invited to come sing it in Times Square, this Thursday, at 6:30 p.m. Details here.

I’m going, and my friend who is going with me is very nervously allowing me to borrow his camera to take a few shots. I suspect he might change his mind. If I had my camera I’d be taking tons of shows and movies. Damnit to the infinity power.

This is a dramatic recreation of me practicing. (Nora, those are one of the pairs of earrings you sent me! I love them all, but these are great every day earrings.)

I Think My Brain is Shrinking

I feel like a part of my mind is lying dormant while I wait for my camera to be repaired. Also, I just read a pile of new articles about music and the brain, and clearly others parts of my brain aren’t getting as much use while my choir is on hiatus.

I took the shot below while in Boston researching composers Randall Thompson and Francis Boott. Every time I go to Boston I have to walk around Cambridge and Harvard Yard, visiting all my old haunts and the places where I once lived. It’s a nostalgia-wallowing thing that I have always done. This motorcycle was parked in front of my old apartment.

In case you’re having trouble reading what the note says, it reads:

F _ _ _ K you!
Meter Maid!
Because of your incomp-
etance at placing
tickets, I got 2 tickets
on my bike w/o knowing
of the first! Please
ask to be retrained!

It’s pretty well-mannered for an angry note. It would have been nice if there’d been a scribbled in, “I’m sorry,” in a different hand writing.

Happier Camera Days

A fun night from my past. I was the moderator for a panel at the 92nd Street Y about the paranormal. I asked and fielded questions for Dan Aykroyd and his father Peter, who had just written “History of Ghosts: The true story of seances, mediums, ghosts and ghostbusters.”

Okay, not my best camera work, but still!! Ghostbusters!!

Dan Aykroyd and his father Peter

Jealousy and Envy


Honestly, it’s not something I normally feel. The last time I felt jealousy in a serious way, that I can remember, was when I was thirty years old, and someone I went to high school with had just published her first novel. That got me. Then I read it and things got so much worse. It was this wonderful, evocative, luscious, brilliant work. I felt just sick.

But I spent a week or so meditating on it, and I came to terms with what I felt, and I was able to both neutralize the feelings, and turn them into inspiration. I didn’t deny my feelings, sometimes people have something you want, or achieve something you’d like to achieve. It’s hard to explain, but I embraced them in a friendlier way. I looked at what I had and what I’d done, compared it realistically to the rest of the world, and then I took steps toward achieving what I wanted to achieve. Slowly, over time, I stopped feeling jealousy for the most part. It was very liberating.

Last night an NYPD helicopter was circling right over my block, coming closer than I’d ever seen a helicopter come before. People on Facebook reminded me that Obama was in my neighborhood having dinner at Sarah Jessica Parker’s house. I have to be honest, I felt a wave of envy. As that helicopter circled overhead, shining lights over the roofs (looking for snipers?) I desperately wanted to have a fabulous apartment and Sarah Jessica Parker’s wardrobe, and to not have to think about things like how much all this medication for my cat is costing me. I wanted the kind of fairytale life where a Barack Obama would come to my apartment for dinner, and all these magical whirlwinds of activity would start spinning around me as I was just going about, living my life.

I will feel much better when I finish the edits of this book, and if I can get it to a place where I love it. Because, in truth, I am leading exactly the life I have always wanted. I haven’t always been successful at all the things I’ve tried (hence the cat-medical-bills worry) but at least I’m trying, and the game isn’t over yet! I also realize how good I have it in so many ways, like living in the neighborhood I do, even if Barack Obama isn’t coming to my house for dinner. (And what would I feed him anyway? I don’t cook. Amy’s frozen pizza, my favorite dinner? Oh wait, do you think Sarah Jessica Parker is doing the cooking?)

I will also feel a lot better when my freaking camera is repaired and I can go out and photograph things like the president coming to my neighborhood for dinner! I’m not going to get over missing that opportunity for a while, I can tell you. (That’s Buddy giving me head butts above.)

I Didn’t Make it to the Sing


It was one of those days, but I pulled myself together and I was going to head out to The Big Sing and then Buddy didn’t eat dinner. This was followed by other bad signs that I won’t go into, but that was that for me. I couldn’t even watch The Bachelorette.

Buddy had a better day today, but he’s been up and down for weeks. It just unavoidably feels like the beginning of the end. Slowly there will be more downs then ups, then all downs, and then that will be that.

I’m sorry to be so depressing. Finney has been making out like a bandit! In my effort to feed Buddy more, Finney has been able to subsequently sneak more, and so he’s happy. There’s that. And I’m going to try to take the goods days with Buddy while I have them.