A Day Off

My official first day off this year began quietly enough with yesterday's snow calming the oft-frenetic pace of city living. It stayed snow-white and pretty at my parents' home in the far-far suburbs, but even though the snow had turned into slush or simply melted away down into steamy drains in New York City, the crisp air lent a mellowed excitement to tonight's theater-fare.
Paul Taylor's Dance Company performed at NYC Center stage; exhibiting the most cogent and arresting modern dance pieces I have ever seen. My friend and I enjoyed it much more than Saturday's Flamenco Hoy. The two-hour, three-part, gala-opening performance (complete with a live Ragtime band accompanying the last piece) up-ended my preconceptions and misgivings about modern dance. It was a cohesive storytelling by able and emphatic dancers, with the most appropriate and riveting choreography and music. Here's to the arts, of which without we would lose part of ourselves.

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Quick dinner: so-so (nearly bad), Korean fast-food place near 6th ave and 56th St
Quick dessert: shortbread dipped in chocolate with an enjoyable cup of french roast coffee (Au Bon Pain); quite the yum!
Quick pick-me-up after the show: white chocolate (Starbucks)...great blend by the barista, but much prefer real cocoa

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Hanoi's Sugar Street (viewed on Etsy): http://vimeo.com/etsy/sugarstreet

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And we end the night with a bit of Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence...

TottoRamen & FlamencoHoy

Valentine's day isn't much celebrated between myself and significant other, but we do hype each and any mundane event as an excuse to celebrate. Yesterday, to celebrate what we thought was an early spring, we caught an eight o'clock show of Flamenco Hoy at NYC Center stage. An hour before, we sat snug and satisfied at Totto Ramen, nursing a chicken paitan ramen between cold hands. We, among a dozen others, waited an hour to be seated; yeah, it was that serious. But at least they take their ramen seriously too. There was seriousness enough at the show as well, the performers heralded from old Spain, hailing from romantic-sounding places like Seville and Madrid...I daydreamed of bullfighters and senioritas. But there was enough play, of men in tight clothing, as they should be, and women with streamlined figures, both surely tapping their heeled feet and sounding their castanets to the soulful, almost-guttural accompaniment of four accomplished flamenco singers. All exhibited with the vim and vigor of seasoned and impassioned performers. Ole!

Men Who Swim

http://www.metfilmproduction.co.uk/

In November 2010 feature documentary Men Who Swim received it’s Swedish premiere and was released theatrically by Folkets Bio.

The film was screened in the UK in June by BBC Storyville under the title Sync Or Swim and received rave reviews, with The Scotsman stating ‘if Ingmar Bergman had ever made a film about synchronised swimming, then it would probably have looked a bit like this’.

Unplugged: disconnecting from The Social Network

Per dictionary.com to "unplug" denotes the "clearing [of] an obstruction; unclog" as well as to "disconnect." After a day and half of deep thought, notwithstanding the emotional intensity (as any twenty-something ought to do when it comes to unplugging), I finally deleted my facebook account. It had been long coming, but yesterday was the day to do it, and so it was done. It can be undone within the next 14 days but I'm resolved to let the dead sleep.

My brother had advised that I should notify people of my decision and to forward a contact number or email; but that would require trolling through my friends list, which ironically had bloated into a friends-family-acquaintances-co-workers-who-is-this-person-singers-bands list. It was easier and more final to just cut the cord and keep on with life.

But what is modern life without facebook? Better, I'm sure of it. My life is again my own without the added pressures of status updates, status checks, uploading of albums to compare vacations or extravagances. It's my life again with the revival of a personal diary and journal. It's my life without facebook: no one peering, no need for justifications, no blue-iconed Social Network that may be selling my information for profit and gain. It's my life: net-surfing, PBS-watching, park-strolling, book-reading, apartment-cleaning, star-gazing, boardgame-playing kind of life. It's good to have it back.

Happy Holidays courtesy of Caesar's Cypher

Cryptic cool.
This year's team Christmas card was hand-signed by senior management and hand-distributed to each team member. Unfortunate that most of us are on vacation/holiday time already.
Most of us would have thoroughly enjoyed cracking the code to get to the well-wishing.

Death and Dunkin' Donuts, then a farewell

I don't think I encounter death more often as I get older, I think that it may seem that way because the grief stays with me longer. The more I glimpse the depth of loss and the more I become acquainted with the sear of such sorrow, I come to understand what it means to have to let go of someone so loved, especially when one isn't quite ready for the farewell.

As October came to an end, my friend's mother passed away after a valiant battle with cancer. Then just a few days ago another friend's parent passed away...her father had twenty years coping with kidney failure. Both friends are just in the second decade of their lives, and already forced to reckon with death and dying. Myself, I can only watch and wonder at the strength each had to summon and the sadness both have had to struggle with.

As I sat across my friend in a crowded Dunkin' Donuts, I questioned my ability to offer comfort. We instead talked about the freshness of the donuts, the well-blended coffee, the salty hash browns and the savory pancake-wrapped sausage bites. Unexpectedly, the warmth of the place, the enveloping noise, and our preoccupation with our food offered a much-needed bubble where the world and its struggles were kept at bay.

In another hour, the memorial service would start and we sensed the urgency. In response we gobbled down our food, talked about unrelated things, and clenched our stomach against the sudden invasion of the heavy meal. Empty calories that would need to fuel our fight and flight response. Glancing at my friend, I realized she'd have to go through this moment many times throughout her life. When suddenly the grip of loss seizes you unaware, and as you struggle to stay in the current of the day-to-day you choke in the drowning wave of re-lived farewells. But you have to keep swimming to win against the downward pull of what you've lost and want to regain.

It's a sad song on repeat, until the batteries run out...

Life is what we choose to remember

My old Sony Cybershot, after several despairing attempts, loyally took a crisp shot of dusk. As the sun shone its last rays and bid goodbye to the world, the moon did its part and bid the sun and the world a Goodnight.

I remember the flight back to New York from California with glimpses of myself hunched over a finance textbook on the collapsible food tray. I had forgotten that the tedious grey had been interspersed with uplifting moments of awe and wonder: flying above the clouds with the blue vacuum of space above highlighted by the otherworldly glow of stars, sun and moon.

Living our lives, how much we experience and know. The people we meet, the places we've been, what we've done; amidst the grief and sorrow, amidst disappointments and failures...how much of the good within each moment have been lost to memory.