I Am Alive

Is this what a fisherman feels when he’s hauled in his day’s catch, with the carp and the marlin salted on the floor of the skiff? When he brings his boat ashore and the others stare at his haul, does he feel pride for his catch? Or does he think that it’s all in a day’s work, and does he plan to go out the next day and bring in the same, so that he can support his family, or just himself? The fisherman doesn’t worry when the line leaves scars in his palms or slices open his skin, or when the fish pull him in circles for so long that he’s exhausted and bent. The fisherman doesn’t worry and he doesn’t complain. He just prepares his bait and baits his hooks and takes each day at a time, each hour and each minute and each second waiting for the telltale pull on the line. 

I've been absent for quite a while recently, reading Hemingway and trying to work on a new novel. I still have to edit the draft manuscript of the last novel I'd been working on, but I think I need a break from that, time to let it marinate in my brain for a while. This new one is about a group of four friends who travel to Hungary together using the money that one friend inherited from her great grandmother's death. But one of the friends has a secret, and he has to tell the others before it's too late. 

In other news, the May issue of The CPA Journal is complete and has been sent to the printers, so we should be getting that in at work any day now. Aside from work, I've been spending time with Todd. We're going to see a We Were Promised Jetpacks concert this weekend on our 1 year and 8 month-iversary. I'll post some music and pictures at a later date. And more about my longest relationship ever at a later date too. Suffice to say, I'm still incredibly happy with him. <3

To end this mini update, here's an interesting article I read in the New York Times this morning about abandoned silos in Kansas that have acted like incubators for trees and now dot the prairie.

An Underground Past

I'd recommend to all readers that you watch this video, taped inside the Times Square subway station in the '80s. It's interesting to see what looks the same and what looks different. Of course, the most notable difference is all of the graffiti on the trains! 

Also - there was a "K" train?! Where did that go?

I'd like to find some videos from even earlier than that; if I find any good ones, I'll share those here as well. If you know of any, let me know! I'm very interested in the different stages of the New York City subway system.

Understanding

“I sat beside Brett and explained to her what it was all about. I told her about watching the bull, not the horse, when the bulls charge the picadors, and got her to watching the picador place the point of his pic so that she saw what it was all about, so that it became more something that was going on with a definite end, and less of a spectacle with unexplained horrors. I had her watch how Romero took the bull away from a fallen horse with his cape, and how he held him with the cape and turned him, smoothly and suavely, never wasting the bull. She saw how Romero avoided every brusque movement and saved his bulls for the last when he wanted them, not winded and discomposed but smoothly worn down. She saw how close Romero always work to the bull, and I pointed out to her the tricks the other bull-fighters used to make it look as though they were working closely. She saw why she liked Romero’s cape-work and why she did not like the others.”

- Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

Signs of Spring

red berries

awakening bud

life over death

cotton candy boughs

out of hibernation

when the day was warm we went out from the office and squinted in the sun
and we all sat on benches to eat deli sandwiches that we had purchased with 
what little cash we didn't put into the bank, what we allowed ourselves to spend,
what we weren't stashing away in hopes of saving up for vacations or books 
or going back to school or to someday have just enough to purchase a plot of land
and some seeds to grow a garden and build a hut with sturdy wooden planks
and then we could live forever as a community of clasped hands out in the sun.

Oh, if life were that simple, what dreamers and poets we all would be.

House of the Day

Today I just want to share with readers a really great gem on the Wall Street Journal website: the House of the Day. This feature, which isn't religiously updated every day but pretty often, showcases luxurious homes in the United States and around the world. Although I can't afford any of these houses (and might not ever be able to), I really enjoy looking at the different styles and interior design schemes. And I love to imagine what I would do with that space, like in today's highlighted English Manor house.

Video Poetry

Here are some videos from poetry open mic night last Friday. They're sideways, but I decided to put them up anyway. Apparently I still haven't figured out the video function on my digital camera.

The first is me, doing a short piece.

The next is a clip from my friend Sean's song:

And this last one is one of the poetry open mic regulars... "Satan"... singing his amusing and political Christmas carols: