Dear God,

Thank you for bringing me home.

Evolving 101

A fire in me has been burning since the day I was born, and I've been actively fueling its flames my whole life since. Only then is it worth living--when there's never a dull moment--and I've often cashed in my peace of mind for the aliveness I feel with a broken heart. I would not call myself a drama queen, because there's nothing superficial about what I crave. The intensity I seek travels though me, igniting passion, euphoria and fear, then as all energy does, it shifts, moves and rests.

I've been running toward intensity since I was a little girl, and for the past three years I've been running from the kind of quiet I feel this morning. It's vacant, unsettling and uncomfortable, accompanied by a knowing that in this unfamiliar state of existence, lies answers.

I used to think if I stepped on the bathroom scale and saw the magic number, I'd be free. I thought if I had a big kitchen to cook in, I'd be free. I thought if I only knew for certain he loved me, I'd be free.

But I got on the scale this morning and saw the magic number, I scrambled eggs in my big kitchen, and I've long since known that I am loved. So where is the party, the little girl in me wants to know. Where are the spontaneous love songs, the job offers, the holding hands on a plane to Bora Bora?

Life is no bed of roses, no walk in the park, no easy feat and there are no guarantees. But I live for those sweet moments of peace, when my love is inspired only by me, and flows freely to you, her and him. When the baritone sax sounds like what it must sound like to eat a delicious invisible cloud, when my child's embrace stops me in my tracks, her fingertips leaving delicate, permanent imprints on my skin. When his voice drops low and he says the exact, perfect right thing.

Life is a bowl of cherries, a day at the beach, it's what you create and what you leave alone. It's also joylessness, loneliness, disappointment and fear, and him not always saying the exact, perfect right thing.

But this morning I am one step closer than I was. I don't have to fuel my own fire or calm my own storm, I don't have to turn lemons into lemonade. I won't follow a recipe to prepare future plans like an anticipated meal--I can love what is and want what I've got, and find the joy in joylessness, and in the wonder of it all.

Coming home

I've been off caffeine for five weeks and have seen no change in myself other than having become a miserably unhappy person. Some say it's withdrawal, I say it's time to start drinking coffee again.

Sitting at the sidebar

On this extraordinarily lovely day, something extraordinarily lovely from saxophonist John Surman.


Click music player to listen.

Afternoon

City light

My reading chair.

Tolerance

Me: "Honey deserves a lot."

David: "Honey deserves not to be microwaved alive."

A place to hang

Watch the video, listen to the sound, read about this beautiful and interesting instrument.

Sitting at the sidebar

Through his album, My Favorite Songs, I recently fell in love with the music of Chet Baker. No offense to Miles, but I'd consider this the best rendition of All Blues I've ever heard.

Giant steps

Annie's first pair of shoes may no longer fit, but she's still my baby.

Sneak peak

Air conditioner's been off for 3 days, another beautiful morning. Still much to do but it's feeling like home.

She rocks

Annie gave me this for my birthday, she said for two reasons.

"One because you said you wanted a brownstone, and also because the butterfly represents metamorphosis--you know, transformation, just like what you're going through!"

Day at the beach

Just three things

Music. Love. Faith.

Life indoors

It's the most beautiful day--air conditioners all over the city have been turned off, it's fall weather, happy weather, Northern California weather. It's a crisp blue sky, the smell of clean and that tugging childhood feeling of possibility. But instead of what we had planned, I'll be home taking care of Annie who woke up feeling under this weather.

But we'll open the windows and put on Charlie Parker--I'll clean, she'll read, we'll watch movies--I may even convince her to go for a walk. Because whatever the weather--in or under it, everything's unfolding just as it should--and it is the most beautiful day.

Sitting at the sidebar

Sometimes it's much too strong to let go.

Hey!

It's 8/8/08

The bright side

Me: Oh damn, I got a parking ticket.

Annie: How much is it for?

Me: Forty-five dollars.

Annie: Maybe it's just the city's way of celebrating your 45th birthday!

July 26, 2008

A birthday sky.

For more recent pictures, visit Snap Shot.

My tub

Joy

I found my speaker wires!

Leo Horoscope by Rob Brezsny

When British rock legend David Bowie came to America for his first tour in 1973, he said he felt like a fly in a glass of milk. He was half-drowning in a flood of interesting new sensations and perceptions, while at the same time he was greedily drinking it all in, stoked with fascinated joy. According to my astrological projections, Leo, you're in that fly-in-the-milk state yourself, or will soon be.

A woman's work

I wish I could unpack, do housework and blog at the same time... but I can't.

Good news bad news

The good news is, I'm back online--the bad news is, I no longer have a desk and my computer is on the floor. The good news is, I can blog--the bad news is, something's wrong with Blogger's "Upload image" feature. The good news is, I don't need images to blog--the bad news is, I don't like blogging without images.

Good night!

Katie

(Imagine image of your choice above this post.)

Offline

Moved into my new apartment this weekend--The Half Note will return once connected.

Dad

LMS

Little Mr. Sand?

On the horizon

I could swear I feel a blog post coming on.

In the company of me

Decreased blogging due to an intense need for silence.

Sitting at the sidebar

A request from a Half Note reader, Let's Cool One, in memory of the late Johnny Griffin.

Love comes

Not through vows or attachment, not through promises or plans, but through a person you meet by chance, who gently holds up a mirror, reflecting the love you already have.

You're invited!

Five years ago, color television celebrated it's 50th birthday, and five years from today, God willing, I will too.

Hi Marta!

Reminder

To please listen to the beautiful and inspiring song at the sidebar, by my beautiful and inspiring friend, Jon Fromer.

Click the music player top right.

In real time

As I wash my face and brush my teeth, I hear the rain and music--one sound. I am lonely and at peace, alone and loved.

Sitting at the sidebar

It's Gonna Take Us All to win the peace, and I'm so glad my friend Jon Fromer (pictured left) is out there on the front lines.

Sitting at the sidebar

Something beautiful and Something Vida, by Gary Regina.

Color of love

Years ago at Norma's house (Annie's babysitter), a little boy was crying, asking why he was the only one in the group with black skin. Norma lovingly stroked his back, and in her thick Puerto Rican accent she replied, "Because when God was painting the children, he took extra time with you."

Good intentions

I meant to blog today, really I did.

Sitting at the sidebar

I didn't know what it meant in 1972, but as I sat in my bedroom and played it over and over, this song rushed through me like a train. It opened my 9-year-old heart and lit a fire in my body-- my first walk though a love song, the first step toward the hopelessly romantic woman I would become.

Thirty-six years later I know what it means, and as I sit in my apartment and play it over and over, it rushes through me like a train. It opens my 45-year-old heart and lights a fire in my body--and though I've walked through countless love songs, it still feels like the first step toward the hopelessly romantic woman I am becoming. It still feels like the first time.

Click the music player to listen.

In a moment of silence

The look on David's face when in the presence of his new love, fills my heart. My daughter stands surrounded by love, and it fills my heart. The thought of my mother and the remembrance of my father, fills my heart.

I look out the window, the sun hits the brick across the way, and a single yellow flower rests on the green leaf of a tree--and my heart is full. The room is filled with music and I am filled with love, and as I move closer to joy, I am both fearless and afraid.

I don't like spiders and snakes

But I like them a hell of a lot better than the giant-sized cockroaches that scurry past my open-toed sandals as I make my way home on a hot and humid New York City night.

New day

Annie plays at a friend's house in Harlem, David spends the day with his new love in Queens, Honey gets her first haircut in the hood, and I get ready to hang in the village with Claudia the Mexican maiden.

Placing orders

Dear Universe,

Two years ago I asked you to send me a masculine man--fierce, determined and confident, powerful and sexy with the ability to make me laugh as well as swoon. I also asked that he have talent, depth and integrity, be free of attachments and ready to love only me.

I thank you for the prospects you've delivered so far, and hope I don't seem ungrateful. Each one has almost fit the bill, and I ask if next time, you would please consider making a few minor adjustments.

(You know what they are)

Faithfully,

Katie Bowen

Missing you

I relate to this.

I have to say it!

It's hot!

Confession

It's my favorite song to dance to, and I sure hope they're playing it when I'm out dancing tonight.

Enjoy your Friday.

xoxo

Dream house