Sunday, June 28, 2009

Quote revisited

“... joy and sorrow are inseparable. . . together they come and when one sits alone with you . . . remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.”

~Kahlil Gibran

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

At The Half Note will return this fall--of course I may check in sporadically to water the garden and change the sheets.

Happy summer to all my faithful readers.


Thursday, June 18, 2009

In my dreams

During an early evening doze, I dreamed I was driving in my car passing another car on the left. Suddenly I was in danger, headed right for a semi--but at the last minute the semi moved. I continued forward toward a three-way intersection with a cliff straight ahead, and by the time I noticed the street light was out, I was going too fast. I had to make a left turn, but it was too late to slow down. I knew if I slammed on the brakes, I'd flip over or skid off the cliff. I also couldn't tell if cars were coming from the other side, and if I might be headed for a major collision. I had no choice but to leave it to fate as I approached the intersection at full speed.

Ultimately I was not hit, and without any effort, I made the turn and my car came to a smooth and safe stop.

Sitting at the sidebar

Destiny by Zero 7.

The only thing to do

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I was having dinner alone in a hotel lounge, and the waitress brought me a basket of bread.

"Oh, no thanks," I said, "I don't need it," but the waitress ignored me and left the basket on the table. A man was sitting near me in an easy chair, reading a paper--he smiled and said, "I like to eat bread when I'm on a date!"

I jokingly replied, "Then why don't you be my date, eat my bread, and then let's never see each other again!"

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Happy Birthday Mom

To my mother, life is like a question and she's always seeking answers. To my mother, people are mysteries, and like an archeologist who digs for things left behind, or a pirate hunting treasure, she discovers what's inside. To my mother, pain and loss are part of what we endure, and she endures hers with grace, even when her heart is breaking. To my mother, the future can be frightening, but she values what she has in the moment--her children, her coffee, the way a piece of costume jewelry sparkles on her wrist.

My mother sees people as moving works of art, and she's always ready to lift them up or off a page and bring them to the stage. She can take an encountered moment, retell it like a dream, and be awed by all of it, day after day after day.

My mother is a great woman of the Universe and a kid from the Bronx. Her dark eyes will never tell you her secrets, but nothing is hidden. She lives underground, above the clouds and at the surface, and she is my treasure.

Sick chicks

Me: "Do you know what he said to me?"

Chloé: "What?"

Me: "He said he didn't love me anymore."

Chloé: "Ooh, that's hot!"

Monday, June 15, 2009

In real time

Listening to the sidebar--the sun pours thorough my window before setting on my town.

From the box to the bar

No Limit by Kindred the Family Soul.

Slice of life

Today I went to the movies but didn't go in, I glued fake fingernails on Annie, spoke to Cristian, ate a well done burger, hugged Rosanne, laughed with my mom, laughed at David, discovered a love letter on my car, and scratched my face with the antenna of the 1970s portable TV set I found in the basement.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

What I think of me

Inspired by a post at Aerophant.

I think I’m intelligent, funny, clever, beautiful, and generous. I think I’m anxious, fearful, lonely, and self-absorbed. I think I’m honest and direct, and I think I have ugly legs. I think I care so deeply for my mother and my friends, but do a poor job showing them how much. I think I am easily overwhelmed, I think I take responsibility for my life, the good and the bad. I think I am an exceptional editor, a mediocre cook, and a responsive lover. I think I am undisciplined, unfocused and often unmotivated. I think I have great taste in music. I think I am jealous, diplomatic, and reluctantly reliable. I think I am a terrible mother, I think I am a good mother. I think I have great hair, a beautiful neck, nice ears and fat arms. I think I know very little about the world, and much about life.

Sitting at the sidebar

I remember once, I must have been about 20, I was living in Santa Cruz and my parents lived in New York. I was heartbroken and sobbing over what, I can't recall. I phoned my father and after listening to me cry for some time, he became very quiet. Then, in a stern voice he said, "Get up and dance!"

"What?"I asked.

"Dance!" he barked. "Get out of bed right now, and while I'm on the phone, put on some music and start dancing!"

"But I don't want to dance!" I cried even harder.

"Do it!" he shouted. "Do it now!"

And of course, I always did what my father told me.

The song at the sidebar is playing in my apartment, and Daddy, wherever you are, I'm still listening to you, and I'm still dancing.

Mystery solved!

Email From: Ann Bowen
Sent: June 13, 2009
12:15 PM
To: Katie Bowen
Subject: Re: A Mother's needs

Dear Kate,

Is it called keyboard?

I'm using it as we speak.


Via email

From: Ann Bowen
Sent: Jun 12, 2009
8:35 PM

To: Katie Bowen

Subject: A Mother's needs


I must buy a new typewriter. Please get me one on line or whatever is best.



From: Katie Bowen
Sent: Jun 13, 2009
12:29 AM

To: Ann Bowen

Subject: Re: A Mother's needs


Please explain!



Joke by Annie

Q: How do you know the ground isn't on drugs?

A: Because it's never high,

Joke by me

Q: Why are so many musician jokes about drummers?

A: Because drummers always get the short end of the stick.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Collision course

Today I parked my car at a meter on the corner of Broadway and 85th Street, walked toward the frozen yogurt place, and just before I entered, I heard a loud crash. I turned to see that two cars had collided just feet from my own parked car. Everyone appeared to be safe, and plenty of people were assisting the passengers, so I proceeded inside and stood on the long line of frozen yogurt lovers.

Eventually I got my cone and walked outside. The cops were there--taking reports and calming the distressed victims. As I began to unlock my car door, a van going full speed toward the corner at which I was parked, smashed into a stopped SUV and burst into flames. This took place no more than 5 feet from where I was now standing. The passengers safely got out of their vehicles, the police of course were already on the scene, and the fire department was called immediately.

As the van proceeded to burn to the ground, I decided to move my car to the next block. Then, while walking through Riverside Park, I finished my melting cone and listened to the faint sounds of sparrows and fire trucks in the distance.

Thursday, June 11, 2009


... Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.

~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Body talk

Annie: "Why do you buy fancy underwear?"

Me: "Because it's pretty."

Annie: "Yeah, but it's not like anyone ever sees it!"

Body talk

Annie: "Why do you put lotion on after you shower?"

Me: "Because it keeps my skin soft."

Annie: "Yeah, but you put it all over your body."

Me: "Yes?"

Annie: "No offense, but it's not like anyone's ever going to touch those parts!"


Annie has the brain of a philosopher, the wisdom of a sage, and the eye of an eagle.

She is the only thing I never doubt.

Thoughts in real time

I'm tired of being the strong one--I'm tired of answering questions, sacrificing, moving over, and rolling over. I'm even tired of understanding. I'm tired of being Wife, Healer, Goddess, and Source.

Between a rock and a hard place, a hard place and a place to fall, I want to say no. I don't want to make a call or lift a finger, or throw a party or make a plan. I just want someone stronger than me to whisper in my ear, "Let me take care of you for a while."

Monday, June 08, 2009

For whom the bed tolles

Me: "Go to sleep Annie, and please don't talk, I'm listening to my meditation tape."

Annie: "Oh, God--I hope it's not Ache Vention!"

Me: "Ache Vention?"

Annie: "I mean, Erie Canal."

Me: "Erie Canal?"

Annie: "What's that guy's name?"

Me: "Do you mean, Eckhart Tolle?"

Annie: "Yeah, that guy!"

Reading Signs

Dave: "Kennedy Fried Chicken."

Me: "He did?"

Dave: "The Center For Career Freedom."

Me: "I'd like to be free of my career!"

Dave: "Bagel Shop--Space Available."

Me: "Yeah, the space in the holes! Hey, I'm on a roll!

Dave: "No, you're on a bagel!"

From the box to the bar

Ballet Lane, by Underworld.

Click music player to listen.

Sunday, June 07, 2009


Annie: "Look Mom, that car's license plate says 945 WTR--it's like the word 'Water' without the variables... I mean the vocals... I mean the vocabulary! What's the word I'm looking for?"

Me: "Vowels."

Annie: "Yeah, the vowels!"


Annie: "Oh my God, Mom! What do you see when you look at Wednesday, Thursday and Friday on your calendar?!"


Me: "The bass player on this CD looks really familiar. I know him from somewhere."

Rosanne: "You know Neil Miner?"

Me: "I think so."

Christine: "Oh my God!"

Rosanne: "You know Neil Miner, too?"

Christine: "No, but I just saw Mister T!"

Friday, June 05, 2009

Evolving 101

It's not melancholy, not a longing of the heart--actually, it feels the opposite. If I had to describe it, I might say uncomfortable silence, fragments in frames, solitary, without need. I desire, not to create peace, but to take peace, not to be in love, but to be love. Yesterday I wanted a hand to hold, and today I hold my own--rain outside and everything.

Something's coming all right, like nothing I've known. It resembles heaven on earth, it only feels a little like hell.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

Night in shining armor

I close my door, dim the lights and light a candle--I sit in this chair and wait for what comes. Never at a loss for words, I have nothing to say--I am my mother's orphaned child. I gather my million moments of joy and put them in a book, I anticipate church bells but hear the alarm.

I know time passes when I'm not looking. Goodbyes to friends, memories of a lover's kiss, and a little boy's tender hands.

Somewhere there's music, how faint the tune, somewhere there's heaven... how high the moon.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Slice of life

Today I drove up Central Park West in the pouring rain, cried my eyes out while watching a bad movie, cuddled a baby, bought a bag of peppermints, and cut open the roof of my mouth with a cracker.

Monday, June 01, 2009

The way things aren't

I thought I saw a news headline that read, "Drug Hope for Advanced Melodrama," but it actually said "Drug Hope for Advanced Melanoma".