Saturday, September 30, 2006

Thich Nhat Hanh Says:

“Our senses are our windows to the world, and sometimes the wind blows through them and disturbs everything within us. Some of us leave our windows open all the time, allowing the sights and sounds of the world to invade us, penetrate us, and expose our sad, troubled selves. We feel so cold, lonely, and afraid. Do you ever find yourself watching an awful TV program, unable to turn it off? The raucous noises, explosions of gunfire, are upsetting. Yet you don’t get up and turn it off. Why do you torture yourself in this way? Don’t you want to close your windows? Are you frightened of the solitude—the emptiness and the loneliness you may find when you face yourself alone?”

Friday, September 29, 2006

I Just Dig Owls

LP Memories...

This album came out when I was 10, when a 19-year-old girl named Michelle lived with us in San Francisco. My parents offered her room and board and use of the car, in exchange for helping around the house and caring for my little brother and me. Eventually she made the move with us to Los Angeles where my folks put her in school. Michelle was a “hippie” I suppose, energetic, smart and joyful. She was deeply involved in Native American culture and would wake me up every morning at sunrise to sit with her on the roof of our house and pray to the God, Wankantanka. From a deerskin pouch, she’d take a pinch of tobacco and toss it to the east, one to the west, and more to the north and south. She would sometimes give thanks, other times she would ask him to watch over me, to ensure that I have a good day at school, or horseback riding or whatever. (I remember being amazed that you could speak to a god in such a casual way!)

Many times, in the middle of the night, I would be woken by the sounds of Stevie Wonder’s “Innervisions” coming from the living room. I would quietly make my way down the stairs and stand and watch as Michelle danced in the dark; her head tossed back, long hair whipping around her body, her smiling face barely seen in the moonlight through the windows. And although she eventually moved on to new adventures, this album, and the memories of her, always remained.

Annie Asks:

"Mommy, was there radio when you were a kid?"


" It is not easy to find happiness in ourselves, and it is not possible to find it elsewhere."

- Agnes Repplier.

I Overheard in New York

Old lady with a thick Yiddish accent: "To me, soup is the most important thing."

--187th Street & Cabrini Blvd.

The Museum of Sex, NYC

Click to see the sign that hangs...uh...outside the building.

Thursday, September 28, 2006


I'm happy tonight. David was over with our friend from Paris, Stephanie, then they headed off to dinner and I gave Annie a bath and supper here. It's only the second time Annie has slept at my place, she's most comfortable at home and if she wants to sleep here, she says so.

I love puttering around the apartment, lighting candles, listening to music, having a glass of wine and peeking into the bedroom to see my little girl slipping into slumber.

Life is good.

Happy Birthday Tai Moses!

Morning Stretch

Post Office Stories

At the post office in New Jersey, the guy behind the counter sees the return address on my package and proudly tells me he's an Italian American from Brooklyn. He looks around the room, leans toward me so no one should hear, and in a thick NY accent he whispers, "I like livin' here," he says, "Ya know, it's clean, it's nice for the kids etc., but New York? Over there even the STUPID people are smart!"

Walking to School

Annie: "It’s nice to dress well and like how you look."

Katie: "Yes it is."

Annie: "You just can’t be vain."

Katie: "You can have vanity, as long as it’s healthy vanity. As long as you don’t put yourself above other people."

Annie: "Yeah, you don't want to behave like you're on the food chain."

Overheard on My Street

Little girl: "I can't wait 'till I have my own psychic friend."

--181st & Pinehurst


“Music melts all the separate parts of our bodies together.”

~Anais Nin

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The Lioness Sleeps

Blog resumes tomorrow. xoxoxox, Katie

Gotta Ride!

Blog bits later... xoxoxox

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Blog Awe

In the last two days I've had visitors to "The Half Note” from Australia, the Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Singapore and Belgium. These places are added to the regulars from the U.S., Canada, Hawaii and India.

How does this happen? Will someone tell me? It’s a mystery...and Im loving it.

Happy Birthday!

To: T.S. Eliot, George Gershwin, Bryan Ferry, Jane Smiley & Jack Lalanne.

A Man Should...

... know when to be tender... and when not to be. ~Katie


"There has to be something seriously wrong with a person who wants to be the president."

~Roger Bowen

LP Memories...

In 1971 I was 8 years old and this was the first album I purchased with my own money. In my room on Edgewood Avenue in San Francisco, I would dance and sing to "I Feel the Earth Move." I'd also spend hours alone listening to "So Far Away," while I explored my ever-increasing romantic fantasy life.

I suppose I haven't changed much since then.


“Life is a lot like jazz. It's best when you improvise.”

~George Gershwin

I'm a Sucker...

... for a "Real Man" shirt.

Click on the title for where to buy, but for God's sake, please ignore the ugly ones.

Monday, September 25, 2006


“The bluebird carries the sky on his back.”

~ Henry David Thoreau

Now's the Time

Today Annie crossed the street by herself, walked part of the way to school alone, and scored 94 on a math test.

It feels like yesterday that she wore these little shoes.

Summer's End

The Tyner show was great, an evening of almost all Coltrane. McCoy is not a well man, but behind the keyboard he comes alive. Listening to Pharaoh Sanders is like seeing into someone’s private world. I’ll never know where that man travels when he plays, but it must be a beautifully deep and unusual place.

When the show let out we walked across the street to the storefront Chinese massage parlor, where for a dollar a minute a nice lady named Lulu will dig her hands into your back and neck (and ass), and have you in more pain than when you walked in. But when you leave you are certainly 10 years younger, and even stepping outside into the chaos of a Saturday night in the city, you are overwhelmed by a sense of serenity.

After the massage, Dave and I headed around the corner to Café Reggio for coffee. Officially the first day of autumn, the air was as warm as it is in July. And all over the streets of the Village, people were out in droves, taking in the last bits of summer and of the night's magic.

I'm Falling...

Though the vivid colors are still weeks away, my favorite season has finally arrived.

“Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.”

~ William Cullen Bryant

Sunday Night Sunset

The George Washington Bridge after a short and intense rain.


"If it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever."

~David Letterman
Annie and Jack

We spent yesterday on my brother Danny's boat. His son, my nephew Jack, is one of my favorite people on the planet. He and Annie have a very close bond, and here is just a moment of it.

I Overheard in New York

"I mean, she looked good and shit, but I don't want to see veins on a girl's arm."

--The "A" Train.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Happy Birthday Coltrane

In a few hours David and I will be at the Blue Note to see the McCoy Tyner Trio with Pharoah Sanders.

Here’s some beautiful footage of McCoy and John Coltrane, who would have turned 80 years old today. I can’t help wondering if he were still around, would he be with his friend on that stage tonight…

Friday, September 22, 2006


From the Backseat

Annie: "Mommy, I want you to know that when you die, I'm going to make you a really nice grave."

Katie: "Well.... thank you sweetheart."

Annie: "Yeah, and it's going to say R.I.P. on it and, 'HERE LIES THE BEST MOMMY IN THE WORLD.' And it's not going to be flat, it's going to be three dimensional."

Katie: "Thank you honey, I just feel so.... comforted knowing that."

You Get What You Need

Annie stands in front of me and playfully shouts at the top of her lungs, "HUG ME!" I give her a perplexed look and do nothing. She pouts, crosses her arms in front of her and shouts again, "HUG ME!" I want to smile but I stand unmoved and then she says sweetly, "You have to learn to be assertive." I laugh, wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. "Why do I need to learn to be assertive?" I ask. And peeking out from inside my arms, she looks up at me with a huge smile on her face and says, "Because then you get what you want."

Safety First

Annie spent an entire day learning how to cross the street, ride in a car and properly put on bike helmet, all courtesy of the New York Public School System and the Department of Transportation.

Hell, with programs like that, why worry about the things our kids are NOT getting like history, civics and art?


Here's a picture of my people on my father's side: New England Protestant, original Yankee stock. (I'm talkin' Mayflower.)

By their looks alone, I would guess that most of my blood relatives are the men folk.

Cheerful bunch, eh?

Thursday, September 21, 2006


“Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone.”

~Octavio Paz


"Freedom and love go together. Love is not a reaction. If I love you because you love me, that is mere trade, a thing to be bought in the market; it is not love. To love is not to ask anything in return, not even to feel that you are giving something- and it is only such love that can know freedom."

~Jiddu Krishnamurti

Bad Bunnies

From "Overheard in New York..."

Woman: "I feel so guilty when the cat catches me masturbating."

--7th Ave

Happy Birthday Chuck!

Listening to at the Moment ...

The Big Snit (1985)

I remember seeing this when it came to an animation festival in Santa Cruz back in 1985. It's comical and sad and I was glad to rediscover it after so many years. Enjoy...

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Wednesday Night

Sometimes the perfect thing to do on a beautiful night is turn on some great music, crack open a beer, and paint the inside of your closet. It can be as peaceful and satisfying as sitting on top of a beautiful mountain in deep meditation.

Lessons in Art

Last Sunday, David, Annie and I visited an East Village art gallery that housed an exhibit called, “Strange Powers.” Annie lead the way up the stairs of the rickety old building on East 4th Street, and upon entering I must admit, I immediately felt hesitant. I was, as I often am, arrogant and reluctant to remain open.

While I made my first glances around the room, I was quick to judge. One wall was dedicated to a pencil drawing of a human nose; another space held a glass box lined in plastic and filled with water. Christ, I thought. On the other side of the gallery there was a chair and a set of headphones, and if you listened closely you could hear the voices of dead people. There was a black curtain, and the description that hung beside it encouraged viewers to stand in the darkness and see what arose. I spotted a wall that hung five white picture frames, one displaying an overseas letter; the other four frames were empty. What a racket, I thought. But the gallery itself was interesting; a run-down pre-war tenement building with heavy wood floors and abundant and irresistible light.

As David strolled around on one side of the gallery, Annie wandered on another. Soon I came across a small screen mounted on a wall, a video showing two middle aged French men lying on the ground in the forest, tripping on LSD. They were laughing hysterically and I couldn’t help but smile. One of the men began moving his thumb back and forth, back and forth, and the two friends marveled at the sight. One of the men began waving his hand over the green grass saying,” Do you hear it? Do you hear the orchestra play? It’s choreographed. Do you see the choreography here?” His friend listened so intently, almost as if, for him, the orchestra was inside the syllables of the words being spoken. I was completely present to what was occurring in the video, as present as the man was with his own thumb. I was taken by the joy and the fun they were having, and even from a tiny screen on a wall, it was contagious. I stood and watched, and I laughed.

I then decided to take a closer look at the empty picture frames. The piece was titled “The Missing Letters.” There was a post letter in the first frame, and the empty frames, depending on how one’s beliefs came into play when viewing them, represented either anticipation and hope, or doubt and skepticism. Anticipation that the letter will be returned and will take up residency in the next empty frame (and so on), or doubt that the letter will ever be returned at all. Okay, so, I didn’t find the concept behind the piece particularly mind-blowing, but I appreciated that the artist had something to say, and that was enough.

David walked up to me and said we should all go stand behind the black curtain and again my cynicism arose. Standing in a closet being pawned off as art. But I bit my tongue, we all went inside, David pulled the curtain closed and the three of us stood together in the dark. Annie was sandwiched between my body and David’s, our arms around each other and around her. “I’m scared.” She whispered. “Shhh,” I said, “Let’s just stay open to what might happen.” David’s hands were on mine, our bodies pressed against Annie. “I want to go out,” she said, and David whispered, “You don’t have to be afraid honey, Mommy and Daddy are here.” And his words touched my heart, they were true, they would always be true, we would always stand together with our arms around each other and around her. And when David pulled back the curtain and we returned to the light, I could see the choreography, I could hear the orchestra, and everything in the room, suddenly, looked like art.

Gallery Pix

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Had to...


"The greatest remorse is love unexpressed."

~ Allen L. Roland