A Walt Whitman sampler

Today was a day to celebrate art. Our writing workshop at the Barnum Museum in Bridgeport featured a look at the poem by him, A Poem to Myself . It was of his life as he worked on the Blades of Grass. We explored how grass relates to our liives.
Good to be in Dianna's poetry group again-a good way to end 2006.

It is Christmastime

When I think of the word, light, this is an appropriate image I can find for Christmas. From the first Christmas,9 months after the angel announced the birth of the savior to Mary and Joseph, a star appeared in the Eastern Sky to guide the magi to the creche where Jesus lay. Light serves as a spotlight to significant events in history whether it is a new store opening up or to commemorate an important celebration such as Christmas.

Lights bring back memories of when I was a kid growing up in Fairfield. After thanksgiving, my dad would go to the attic and bring down the boxe which had the artificial Christmas tree and the ornaments. We would open up the boxes that had an aroma from being in the attic during the year. We took the garland , ornaments, stars and homemade treasures from my brother and myself that I made growing up at the Henry Viscardi School in Long Island. We would put on some Christmas music and laid the branches to the tree and the base of the tree on the floor and assembled the tree according to the color codes-red being matched to red and green to green. Then we strung the lights around the branches and then the garlands. The stars and balls were hung in between the lights and the garlands. Mom and I had to be careful not to miss any spots and to take turns to carefully rest the angels and the stars so that they would not fall off or get hidden by another ornament. We enjoyed doing this as a family in the living room each year.When looking back, I miss those days of trimming the tree as a family on a Saturday morning after thanksgiving.
Another way that we decorated our home in Fairfield was with lighted candles. Dad and I took the candles out of the boxes and placed them on 14 white window sills of our home. I placed a piece of masking tape around the base of each candle to hold it in place at the center of the narrow window sill. Each night at dusk,after turning on the tree, I went around the house and turned on the lights and looked outside the window onto our street dimly lit by a streetlight.

When I have been on vacation for Christmas break at work, I have enjoyed seeing the christmas lights that others have put up at the retirement community of Arizona and Maine. There seemed to be a competition amongst the retirees in Arizona as to who was to be the brightest and boldest. There was never a scrimping as to the amount of lights put up or the boldness of the displays. There were plenty of Santas and reindeer and snowmen on display. Luminari lined the sidewalks of the homes and signs of lights that said, "Noel" lined the displays. Lights also were on the pilings from the mining of shale that southern Arizona does. These tailings had a christmas tree perched on them and was lit from the distance as we approached.
When I have been in Maine for Christmas, some of the docks are lit with lights for the holidays and the homes had more modest displays of lights without the garishness of a competition since the homes are not as densely packed together and Mainers are known to be a little more frugal and careful with their money. I am glad that I have this annual pilgrimage of almost 19 years in enjoying the celebration of Christmas in either Arizona and Maine.

Currently, when I walk home at night from the bus, I look forward to the moment of seeing our Christmas tree lit at Cartright Park. The tree holds its shape well as the wind rustles through its branches. I like seeing the lights dancing and sparkling from the tree. As I walk down my street in the snow, I see the glistening of the snow next to the tree. I also see lit windows in some of the apartments with a lit tree in some of the apartments and lights lining the balconies. In our lobby,the tree is lit and decorated with angels and balls. As I make this walk down my street, these are a very welcoming sight as I come home from a very busy day at work.

Changes take time

This is the first post on the new apple. Unfortunately, a line appears down the screen. Not a a quick honeymoon with the machine as I thought. But it will not crash and give me a great pleasure with the use of the machine. Arrival of the machine on Nov. 25th, a month before Christmas. Not a perfect set up with having to return it but at least my former monster that crashed constantly is out of here!!!!!

Happy Apple Week

This week I finally took the plunge into a barrel full of appples with the purchase of an imac intel computer that I have been debating for almost 3 years. I saw what I wanted and went for it!!!!!!
And I helped pare several apples for a church function which was a lot of fun and hard work. Yahoo to apple!!!

A symphony of peace

I went to the local Greater Bridgeport Symphony this night and the music of Romeo and Juliet. A play by Shakespeare with universal themes of love and hatred. Of failed relationships and also a way for different musicians to unite in language of notes and chords the expressions felt behind the participants.

Picking up a classical tape picked up almost 10 years ago , the music has the same elements that the symphony played- of a melody without words but one that crosses time well. So it is also with words that express thoughts of music whether in an ode or a short story or an article of a struggle of a team in sports.

So it is with Paws to Pause, a group that I am planning to start at my local church in Fairfield. It is a place where the music of our lives will unite us and give us a chance to make peace within ourselves and others. It is a place to be quiet and still and let God speak to us so we can somehow be HIs voice to others in a world that is often rushed to even hear him at all.

Corporate functions

Looking at my curled hand without glasses on this morning, I realized how intricate and unique our bodies are. When milling through life with our vision aids and our urgency to get from one appointment to another, we seldom appreciate the uniqueness that is displayed in the creation of the human form.
It is with our hands that most of the productivity in the country is created. When the first caveman in society was around he had to make his hammer and chisel from rocks and stones and then fashion tools out of wood. It is with those hands that he and his family would gather the food and wood for the fire. It is with those hands that he would protect his property as well.
Over time, mankind's hands have been with gentle force working on peace accords or have worked hard in anchoring boats to the docks after a days journey. Or by chopping veggies on a cutting board in preparation for a family meal. Thanks for those hands that have brought life to the world.

Hubble's Eye Exam

This week I read in the news that the Hubble telescope is having an eye exam in 2008-its 4th. Over a 16 year history so far, that is not too bad. The cost for a visit to the opthomologist in the sky is a whopping $960 Million dollars. Almost a billion bucks. I love the astronomy program that Nasa sponsors that push what we see to an extreme. It is the perfect environment in the dark so dilating the eyes is much easier. Yet trying to thread tools through the telescope in outer speace and floating is much harder. I wonder where the eye chart is and where in the world the pictures of Rome would be to measure the strength of the prescription lenses. Yet, I could just see Mr. Hubble walking into Pearle Vision of the sky mall and asking where can I get this filled. It will just take a moment.
So let us gaze into the heavens and feel refreshed when the appointment is done in 2 years. So don't complain over a vist that is $200.00. Many fewere zeroes to account for.

The passing of the crystals

The crystals of sand pass through the hourglass one at a time. slowly drifting through the funnel connecting the top spout with the bottom one. There is a gentle rush of the crystals as they pass through the spout. Standing still is what they do when they reach the bottom having made the journey until their world is turned upside down and its outside participants are engaged in a game that pits their knowledge of language against the clock.

Cleveland Quackers

The topic of Cleveland has come up a little bit in my travels through New England in the past month. At a local retreat, the speaker asked if anyone was from Cleveland. I said I was. Following his talk on his life, he mentioned that we are all made for a purpose. He asked what the function of families held, the function of the universe and he even mentioned what is the function of ducks. I said their role was to quack. Thus a quick way to call myself a Cleveland Quacker who likes to speak what others have said.
My cousin married a fellow from Cleveland and when I was at their reception, I sat with a bunch of people from Cleveland, Ohio. It is a very critical area since that is where I originated on the Columbus day back in 1962. It is also the town where I learned to love to eat noodles which is still one of my passions to love pasta. And it is where I learned to understand at an older age the way the football game is played with four downs for each possession of the ball.
Noodles are a cool invention of food that are flat and they hold their shape no matter how much boiling happens in the water. It is also a good way to get indoctrinated into the world of food. To have a german nana serve me the food I never saw with my adult eyes but have been told the story numerous times.
Our origins are always important places that can connect us to stories told at a sermon or sitting around a table with family and friends.
Go Cleveland Browns which are the same color as ducks-brown!!!!

Circles of Life in time

A change of pace and perspective gives one a better view of ones surroundings. While waiting for the use of the internet computers at the Burroughs/Saden Library in Bridgeport, I sat in a seat-part of a row of blue seats. The area where people usually sit was roped off with yellow tape due to a peeling ceiling. When I looked across the room, I saw the bronze doors surrounded by the stained wood. It brought my mind back to the many times that I have been at the Grand Central station with its bronze doors and the beauty that surround the many aspects of the station. A different view to attain from looking at one of the gems of the city which I am pleased to be a part of.

Writing on the topic of vacations is the suggested topic for the workshop this week. I have taken many a trip into the city of New York to do some sight seeing at area museums or just to have a bite of something to eat with my cousins and family. The city of New York is a bustling place with tall buildings of glass windows, concrete walls and many projects that are under construction. The city has a constant influx of people in and out of it-just like the blood vessels carry the oxygen and nutrients to our bodies while removing the impurities from it. The heart of our bodies is just like the Grand Central station bringing with it the people into the heart of the city.

As I remember some of the thanksgivings at my cousin's apartment in the city, I see the sideboard table with the white linen on it and the bowls of hot stuffing and oyster and turkey dressings, the green bean casserole with almonds and the freshly sliced turkey with the aromas raising from each bowl. The tables that we used were borrowed from a local church to fit all of us around it and gave us a sense of a community and family. A good way to gather after not having been around for a while to catch up on the news of what went on during that year.

This past weekend, I spent the time with the same cousins and family at a reception celebrating Kate and Williams recent marriage in Italy. It was a good opportunity to say hi and make some deeper connections with those that I spent a week with in December 2003 with Kate and Seiji. It was easier this time to talk to and reflect on life with Bill Reed and with Prim and Derek since in the last few years have gained an understanding into people's lives a little better. It has been time to reflect on the hurts that some people go through and the time to realize that all moments in life are precious. When I look into the lives of my cousin Bruce and his family and realize that it was through the grace of God that he was spared a tragedy when he had to escape the twin towers on Sept 11th to safety. And as I was leaving to go back to the bus/train station to go to Connecticut, Bruce played a video clip from his cell phone of his daughter, Izzy, playing on the piano of his wife singing "They are playing our song, they are playing our song. On the bottom of that tape was inscribed Sept 11,2006 at 11:43am. It was a simple yet profound words spoken by a 4 year old-the meaning that I still try to uncover. It could be that in our consciences even when young , a message comes forth that state that somehow, those who lost their life through heroic efforts such as the firefighters and police that my cousin passed that sunny tuesday morning in a darkened pit of stairwells in a building under collapse had in a way reached my cousin, Izzy , who somehow grasped the importance of life and in a way shares it with others. Showing that the lives lost that day are not in vain. That it acted as a way of a temporary heart allowed life to flow its course to bring life into others.
So thanks to the change of scenery this morning that caused me to look into the doors at the library in a new way and to begin to connect some random thoughts of family and life that are not so random after all.