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  • Calm

    Memorial Day Weekend about to kick off. Recollections prickle, music first, icons like Come On Baby Light My Fire, (the Doors summer of 1967) and (much later), Every Time We Say Goodbye (Annie Lennox, 1990, from Cole Porter’s lyrics), reminders of buoyant times long gone. As pre-summer peeks around the corner, that wave (as always) rolls in. It’s book-ended by Labor Day(…)

  • Yahrzeit anniversary

    Rain. Gentle; a fine, refreshing mist. The universe cares for my roses and the new plantings in my garden patch below while I drink coffee and wrap my mind in the the cloudy haze that softens also blurs the skyline through my window. A blank reverie. The Empire State Building is lost; so is the Freedom Tower where the World Trade(…)

  • May 18th, a triple blessing

    Three people who are precious to me will celebrate their birthdays on May 18th. First: My beloved sister Nancy (photo left, standing in front of our old Junior High School during a recent trip down memory lane) who owns and runs the beguiling Arbor B & B in High Falls, New York, less than two hours from(…)

  • Naomi Replansky

    The rain poured down. The separate umbrellas my friend (Diana Jones, singer/songwriter) and I held over our individual heads didn’t shield us from getting wet, wetter, wettest. We were in a part of town I rarely visit these days. Splashing across 109th Street from the subway at Central Park West we turned up Broadway where we passed corners(…)

  • Lobster quadrille

    In the name of gender equality, my daughter (Bluebell) tried out for and got the part of King Lobster in her school’s production of Alice in Wonderland. Never missing a moment to get-in-on-the-act, my newish lover (Opus) quoted Flaubert to her. ‘Of all lies, art is the least untrue.‘ Not to be upstaged, Bluebelle (a Swedish(…)

  • Karen Stone, c’est moi

    Who imagined ever becoming Karen Stone, Mrs. Stone? I didn’t, though I knew (and even looked forward to) maturing like good wine during my very own golden Roman Spring. *** ‘Her body had flown like a powerful bird through and above the entangling branches of the past few years, but her face now exhibited the record(…)

  • Cauldron and Pillow

    Conjured, half-smothered, not getting the relief I’m seeking on this un-level playing field when I lay my head on a cauldron and brew a potion in my pillow. My tulips shout, Stop! So I do. Pillow  And night is a river bridging the speaking and the listening banks, a fortress, undefended and inviolate. There’s nothing that won’t fit under it: fountains(…)

Calm

Memorial Day Weekend about to kick off. Recollections prickle, music first, icons like Come On Baby Light My Fire, (the Doors summer of 1967) and (much later), Every Time We Say Goodbye (Annie Lennox, 1990, from Cole Porter’s lyrics), reminders of buoyant times long gone. As pre-summer peeks around the corner, that wave (as always) rolls in. It’s book-ended by Labor Day(…)

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Yahrzeit anniversary

Rain. Gentle; a fine, refreshing mist. The universe cares for my roses and the new plantings in my garden patch below while I drink coffee and wrap my mind in the the cloudy haze that softens also blurs the skyline through my window. A blank reverie. The Empire State Building is lost; so is the Freedom Tower where the World Trade(…)

Read more...

Naomi Replansky

The rain poured down. The separate umbrellas my friend (Diana Jones, singer/songwriter) and I held over our individual heads didn’t shield us from getting wet, wetter, wettest. We were in a part of town I rarely visit these days. Splashing across 109th Street from the subway at Central Park West we turned up Broadway where we passed corners(…)

Read more...

Lobster quadrille

In the name of gender equality, my daughter (Bluebell) tried out for and got the part of King Lobster in her school’s production of Alice in Wonderland. Never missing a moment to get-in-on-the-act, my newish lover (Opus) quoted Flaubert to her. ‘Of all lies, art is the least untrue.‘ Not to be upstaged, Bluebelle (a Swedish(…)

Read more...

Cauldron and Pillow

Conjured, half-smothered, not getting the relief I’m seeking on this un-level playing field when I lay my head on a cauldron and brew a potion in my pillow. My tulips shout, Stop! So I do. Pillow  And night is a river bridging the speaking and the listening banks, a fortress, undefended and inviolate. There’s nothing that won’t fit under it: fountains(…)

Read more...

New addiction

I’ve a new addiction. It crept in quietly, relaxed my mind; now it’s got me by the throat. And: Yes, I never thought it could/would happen to me. It’s a ‘match three’ game like (but not) ‘Candy Crush Saga’ accessed on my iPhone. My main game is ‘Fruits Mania’ but sometimes I also play ‘Lollipop’ or ‘Honey(…)

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RIP Masha Leon

A number of years ago I began working on a book for Scholastic Press for Middle School kids ages 10-14 about Chiune Sugihara, the Japanese diplomat in Kaunas, Lithuania who, in 1940, against his governments wishes, wrote visas round-the-clock to help refugees fleeing Hitler. (He’s sometimes called the Japanese Shindler.) Though Sugihara’s deeds were courageous and in some sense(…)

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High up in the Apennines

I was browsing the internet for a reference re ‘human kindness’ for a new work project, and the following came up: -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- The Human Kindness Foundation website is currently undergoing maintenance. We will be back very soon. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. This explains a lot. Happily though, the ache left by the moment’s void, got filled this morning as I hurried down Ninth Avenue.(…)

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