Facebook & forget

When I was 16, I had a mad crush on a college boy. I never forgot him, not because he was particularly handsome or especially sweet, but because I bought two tickets for us to see Cheap Trick, and then gave him the tickets to hold. The day of the concert, I waited hours for him to pick me up, but he never did. When I called his house, his brother told me he had gone to the show with someone else.

Today, thirty years later, the boy befriended me on facebook, and what a laugh I had when I read a comment on his wall--a friend accusing him of pulling a no-show!

So glad time heals all wounds and God knows, even my bad memories are becoming good ones.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed a man I recently met found me standing on the corner. He was smiling and sweet, and we started talking beside the mailbox. After a while, I noticed he had only one eye. There was no gap where the other eye should have been, just smooth skin, and as he spoke I was thinking he might look cute with a patch.

Suddenly and abruptly he said, "I have to go!" I looked at him and said, "No you don't, you don't have to go."

Happy Birthday Tai!

Secret: There's a gift coming, the old fashioned way.

Thoughts in real time

Other than my motorcycle boots and my Converse, I never know what kind of casual shoes to wear in the daytime.

Taking guitar lessons is proving to be transformative.

Why does "Transformative" come up as incorrectly spelled?

I'm constantly amazed by how careful people are.

I wish I were boarding a plane tomorrow.

I guess I do cry a lot, but really, I'm just deeply moved a lot.

Feelings, words, and declarations are gifts, but no one is here taking care of me.

Dirty kitchen.

Look how my daughter rolled up the toothpaste so nice. Look at the person I've raised.

Wow, it's late.

Thoughts in real time

To avoid the mundane, I lie to myself in some way every day.

It must be exhausting, all the effort, all the energy my young friends use to appear disinterested in each other. They are all so guarded and fragile. Wouldn't it be nice if they could free themselves now instead of twenty years from now?

The tattoo was the most extreme thing I could do in terms of a declaration. The only thing left would have been to jump off a bridge, but that's just not my style.

One of my greatest fears is that I will cease caring.

Drink more water.

Buy new music.

Sometimes when I make the bed, I imagine someone other than myself will sleep there.
Finish movie.

It's all been worth it.

Fold laundry.

Quote

There is only one success: to be able to spend your life in your own way.

~Christopher Morley

"The Professor"

The name given to me by my friend, Chloé.

Shadows and light

Last week I found myself partaking in superficial conversations, cigarette smoking, and too many cocktails named after me. There was no lack of good manners or good will, but at the bar I am a stranger in a strange land. Who knows, maybe everyone is.

At 2:00 a.m., as I walked home with someone I'd only met hours before, I asked myself: What am I doing, what do I expect, what do I want? And as I climbed his stairs, made my way through the hall and watched as he opened the door, I knew I was not exactly where I wanted to be, but would discover days later I was exactly where I needed to be.

With no interest in punishing myself for the obvious foolishness of going home with a man I didn't know, a man who possibly placed little if any value on me at all, I turned around and walked home.

There was a darkness in that night and in the nights that followed, but I understand that even when I'm making wrong choices, they are also right choices. Sometimes I have to dabble in what doesn't shine to be reminded where the light lives, and sometimes it takes a walk down a deserted street, through an unfriendly world of my own creation, to return me to the bright side where I know I belong.

Simple things, extraordinary color

Photos taken in Cairo by my friend Sari Ganulin--the kind of images that make me long to travel.

Mama mia!

Annie: "I wish I were Italian."

Me: "Why do you wish you were Italian?"

Annie: "Because everybody's Italian!"

In real time

Getting housework done, and my Arabic groove on.

Truer words

Life was never meant to be the straight and narrow road you were taught to envision. This lifetime was pre-programmed with such a rich itinerary of convoluted detours to the destination toward which you travel. It is the deviation from what you may have expected that makes this journey fascinating and rewarding in the ways that really matter.
~Rasha

Pure joy

From moment one, my guitar teacher made me believe it was not too late for me to learn, and that I was already armed with the tools I'd need to play a song. Last night I taught myself 4+20 by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, and tonight I was inspired to learn Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. After years of resisting an instrument, what a big and wonderful deal.

In real time

Getting ready for "The Concert For Pakistan" at the United Nations General Assembly Hall. Guests will include Salman Ahmad, Samir Chatterjee, Gavin Rossdale, Sting (via video), Jeff Skoll, and my dear friend, Yale Strom.

Thought in real time

Do what you have to do, be where you have to be, but try to end up where you want--with the one you want.

Eight years ago & almost to the hour

I'll never forget looking out my office window on Lafayette Street, watching all those firetrucks racing by. I'll never forget calling my mother and instructing her to stay inside, or the next four hours making my way north on silent streets. I'll never forget the weeks that followed-- frightened faces and helping hands, pictures of loved ones glued to every surface of the city, flying hopelessly in a burning sky.

I gotta feeling

More than any other age of my childhood, I remember being eleven. It was the year I first cared about my hair, coveted cool shoes, and dreamed of independence. It was the year music started riding shotgun in my life, and became my refuge, my own.

Annie is eleven, almost twelve, and her iPod is becoming more and more important. Tonight, after her second day of seventh grade, she flopped down on the sofa, offered me half of her headphones, and played me some songs.

"This is my favorite part!" She said as we huddled listening to Supertramp. "Right here, Mom, where the saxophone comes in, I love that!"

Her newly streaked reddish hair and rock 'n roll cut, her deep dimples, shining eyes and sweet smell; I couldn't help but move in closer, stare and smile, wishing I could climb inside her world as she mouthed the words.

"Do you like this?" She asked while playing the new Black Eyed Peas.

"I love this," I replied. "I love this."


Click the music player to hear what she hears, I Gotta Feeling you'll like it.

Thought in real time

What a gift to have one person in your life who, with just the sound of their smile, inspires your peace.

Upon reflection

My mom: "Katie, your last post, the one about love, it was such a beautiful piece of writing."

Me: "Thanks mom, that means a lot to me."

Mom: "And someday I'd like to sit down with you and have a philosophical discussion about your beliefs."

Me: "You mean you think my beliefs about love and romance are wrong?"

Mom: "Well, I don't want to say they're wrong."

Me: "But you think they're a little extreme?"

Mom: "Yes, maybe."

Me: "But here's the thing. I posted the piece as a way of saying that I'm not going to deny it. I'm not going to pretend that I feel anything different, because regardless of how I'm perceived, it is the way it is for me."

Mom: "Do you mean you posted it to cover your tracks?"

Me: "Cover my tracks?

Mom: "Yes. So let's say next time, when you write about love, you've already admitted everything so no one can accuse you of being too extreme."

Me: "No, that's not it. I'm not covering my tracks, I'm declaring it."

Mom: "Declaring it, okay, that makes more sense."

Me: "Also, I'm not saying that what I feel or want today will be what I feel or want tomorrow. I'm just talking about knowing myself, and knowing what I feel and want now. The thing is, I was married for 17 years and I know what love is. I know what it is with David, I know what it is with G., with C., and with A. My first serious relationship was when I was 17, and I know what that love is. I know the temporary kind, the cruel kind, and the kind in between. I have no illusions about my illusions, I'm not a 20-year-old girl holding out for something she saw in a movie. I'm a 46-year-old woman who, when it comes to love has a huge body of work to draw from, and who's earned the right to feel exactly what she feels, and want exactly what she wants, and have it change with no warning, and who makes no apologies for anything."

Mom: "You know what?"

Me: "What?"

Mom: "That makes complete sense to me."

Long pause.

Me: "Was that our philosophical discussion?"

Mom: "Yep!"

Fact# 489,004

This is my guitar teacher.

From the box to the bar

My current obsession, E.S.T.


Click music player to listen.

To Eyre is human

There is nothing more interesting to me than love and romance--people have their missions and mine has always been related to matters of the heart. Making a film was fun, editing television pays the rent, but it's what I feel when I'm in love that feeds and fuels me. It's the peace and the pain of it, the way it forces me awake and inspires me to walk on the edge of everything. It's how I learn to surrender and take refuge, to give and forgive, and give more after that.

Jane Eyre is my favorite book and my favorite love story, and even if the vacant side of my bed is never claimed by Mr. Rochester, I'll always believe that a great love is the highest form of art. Shakespeare, Neruda, and Brontë conjured up their visions, and I have one of my own.

Without looking or longing, I'll remain alone in a state of love before I share my life with a man whose connection to me is less than rare. I'll let the story write itself and then, just as it will, allow it to come to an end.

Thought in real time

I know what to do with all this loneliness, I just don't want to.

Leo horoscope by Rob Brezsny

No one knew there was coal in the United States until 1790. A hunter who was wandering near Pennsylvania's Broad Mountain stumbled upon it accidentally when his campfire lit up an outcropping of pure anthracite. That discovery was both a blessing and a curse; since then, the mining of coal has yielded abundant energy but also environmental degradation. I predict a metaphorically similar event for you in the coming days, Leo. You will inadvertently find a potentially enormous source of valuable fuel that will, like coal, present you with both rich opportunities and knotty dilemmas.

But Naughty dilemmas would make it worth while, no? kb.

For you

Thought in real time

Think of all the beauty, brilliance and radiance that goes unrealized and unexpressed.

My voice can soothe your pain

Dub Fx is a street-loop-beatboxer who uses Roland BOSS effect & loop pedals to create sounds which when layered creates a live musical construct. Enjoy.

In real time

Eggs boil, coffee brews, Bach plays.

Saturday morning music

God, I'm so lovin' this.

Thought in real time

Life is going by so fast.

Sitting at the sidebar

Un poco Paco

Entre Dos Aguas, by Paco de Lucia.

So lovely.

Mustang Memories

Originally posted January, 2007

Just before I turned 16, my father bought this 1967 Mustang for me to drive. Even though it wasn't yet considered a classic, it was a damn cool set of wheels, and it was everything to me. It represented endless possibilities and was the reason I couldn't wait to get out of bed in the morning. It was my first taste of freedom, my ticket to anywhere, at least anywhere in L.A..

I'll never forget the day I got my license, or the feeling I had when backing out of the driveway for the first time. It was like leaving each and every one of my teenage cares behind me. After dark, when I returned home, I was exhausted and shaking, and the odometer revealed all: day one out of the gate and I had driven 200 miles.

I slept in my bed and ate breakfast in the kitchen, but I lived in that car. I even gave her a name. Frankie. Driving her I played music non-stop, picked up friends and drove everywhere--to rock concerts, the beach, and through the hills of Hollywood.

Once, when returning from Malibu, I pulled up to a stoplight on Sunset Boulevard. In the car beside me was, by teenage girl standards, the hottest guy who ever lived. He looked at me and mouthed the words, “You’re beautiful.” I sat there speechless, and when the light turned green and he took off, I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a wind-blown mop, my eyes bloodshot red, and my face burnt by the sun. But I felt like Cinderella sitting in her magic coach, and no clock striking twelve could ever take that away.

Painted black

I have a lot on my mind lately--generating more income, preparing my child for seventh grade, writing my memoirs, and of course health care reform. But I'm also manifesting a dream that began a year ago this month, one that started in color, but that I'm now contemplating in black and white.

Click here to see where it all began.

And I love her

It's easy to express my love when it's swimming down a peaceful stream, or drowning in a violent sea. It's easy to express my love to my child, because it's like the palm of my hand--just right there.

But when I think of my mother, the tears come on cue, but the words don't flow.

Even when I'm in her presence, I protect my own heart from what it feels for her. It's as if I open the door, I'll be left stranded in emotion with no way to express or describe it.

The love I have for my mother is love itself, and even if I could wrap it in ten thousand poetic words, it wouldn't be enough. The love I have for my mother lives in the baby I was, in a five-year-old girl, in who I am now, and in the old woman I will one day be.

Trains, pains, & automobiles

Something wonderful is here.

However you look at it

That's me.

What I want

Nine solid hours of sleep, a book I can't put down, thinner thighs and a long, slow kiss.

Fact #598,443

At the corner bar, a cocktail was named after me. "The Katie Lemonade."

Confession

I feel bad, because I don't feel bad, for the guy in the next building who coughs his lungs out all day and night.

Please

Sign this petition to stop the dolphin slaughter, scheduled to take place in two weeks in Taiji, Japan.

Click here.

Sitting at the sidebar

I have an apartment to clean, phone calls to make, and transcripts to read in preparation for a job. But instead, I'm remembering a song I used to love by Peter Frampton, downloading it, and posting it here at The Half Note.

Click the music player to listen.

Thought in real time

I miss the loud and silent way it felt to be loved.

The air up there

The view was not to be captured that night by my little pink camera. Musicians and appreciators spent time inside and rooftop. A clear black sky with white and smoke-gray clouds illuminating high above the city, and a thick slice of a half yellow moon hanging low over Central Park.

In an alternate reality

These are my wheels.

Fact #671,009

I can't be intensely attracted to a man unless he's got the devil in him.

In my dreams

This morning I woke from a dream, just one word whispered over and over:

Cadence... cadence... cadence...

In real time

Woke late and inspired, Lee Morgan plays, out the door for coffee, the city calls.

In real time

Stunning, sunny day, sitting by the open doors of the cafe. Cars zip, wind blows, laptop and coffee. Spiderman came in and gave me a kiss--it's actually Matt, a daytime regular, here with Nick, smiling pretty for the Half Note.

This is a song for you

Tonight I attended another great party hosted by my friend, David. Central Park West and a view of New York, and as always, inspired singers and musicians getting up to play. The vocalist pictured here had me in tears, because his voice was as sweet as the weather tonight, and because he was singing The Nearness of You.

Desire

David: "My daughter is lusting after a new iPhone, her mother is lusting after a new, expensive car, and all I'm lusting after is a clean apartment!"

Seen

Yesterday, my mother described me as a "Full-blown human being," and this morning, my ex-husband said I was "Autobiographical."

Thoughts in real time

I'll forgo an existence more balanced, and keep the butterflies and the bliss.

Today

I got tea, but no sympathy, from my friend Marcia.

Life is sweet.