Quote

I don't like videos of videos.

Kerry MacNeil

Thoughts in real time

Lots of Mother's Day sweetness with some sour in the mix.

My daughter is both a gentle lamb and an untamed filly.

Craving fish and white rice.

He likes the way I say lemons...

... and I like him.

Happy mother's day

Thoughts in real time

Gray outside, bright inside.

Buy more coffee later.

It's so nice to be reminded how consistently kind and respectful (and sexy) a real man can be.

Put on Pandora.

Find new music.

Keep your eyes are wide open, Girl.

Happy birthday, Gary Regina!

My favorite musician, the composer of my film, "Cold Tea," and one of the best men I know.

Quote

Happiness is not ready made, it comes from your own actions.

~Dalai Lama

The "L" word

"L" was for "Love," then "L" stood for "Liar;" now, "L" is for Lucky, that I ("L" is for) Left.

Upon waking

Spring on my skin, and the day is mine.

Small things come in big packages

I once knew a man who gave my daughter two small birthday presents, but he wrapped them together in a deceivingly large box. I thought it odd that he didn't want to find a box that reflected the true size of the gift, but then I thought, This is a perfect metaphor for who he is: A big package with the expectation of something big inside, but when you open it, there's just not much there.

Bits & pieces

I made a 9-minute film and published a six-word memoir, so it only seems fitting that I should direct a 15-minute play.

You can purchase tickets here for the American Globe Theatre's 17th Annual 15-Minute Play Festival (April 28th performance), and then come hang out with me, the writer and the cast after the show.

Fun!

Picture perfect days

Two years ago today, I took a picture of the man I loved as he lay sleeping on a hotel room bed. And it seemed so silly then, to take a picture while he slept, but I think I knew it would be the last time for us together like that.

I look at the picture now, and the light coming through the bathroom door reminds me. The bottle of water on the nightstand reminds me, and his worn white t-shirt reminds me; of the passionate and peaceful, easy way we were, like brand new lovers who had known each other for years. And all of those things remind me of what I must never compromise again.

I still have his voice saved on my phone, recorded two years ago this week, and every so often since then, I listen to the message again.

"Hi, Baby," he says so tenderly. "I just wanted to welcome you home. I hope you had good a flight. I miss you already, and I just wanted to say... I had the best three days of my life."

I'm not heartbroken by him, I'm heart fixed by him. I was more accepted, respected, and cared for in those three days than I have been by any man in the last five years, some of the deepest moments between us existing in silence in a noisy room. And I don't need a picture to remind me of what love is, but I'm so glad I have a picture to remind me of what love is.

My town

Although I was born here, I can still find myself walking down the street on a cold spring night, looking up in awe at all the lights and thinking, I can't believe I live here. I can't believe I live in New York City.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I went on a blind date, and when I arrived to meet the man, he turned out to be a four year-old boy. His mother and father were also there; I liked them very much and spoke to them most of the night. Later, his parents paid the bill and left early, and for the first time in the evening, I sat down with my date at a table for two.

"Listen," I said. "I don't think this is going to work out." (The boy looked as if he'd heard these words many times before). "I mean... you're not really that tall... and I'm super tall, you know what I mean?"

My date had a pained look on his face.

"But my mom had to pay for this," he said, and I got the feeling this wasn't the first date his mom paid for.

"You're right," I replied, "I didn't think of that; I should have chipped in."

There was silence. "Listen," I said, "If it makes you feel any better, I have every intention of sending your mother a nice bouquet of flowers tomorrow."

Suddenly my date eased up, as if everything wrong was now made right.

From A to Z's

I once had a lover who, in the beginning of our relationship, when I would wake up in the middle of the night, would wrap his arms around me and whisper, "Are you OK, Baby?" Toward the end of our relationship, when I would wake up in the middle of the night, he would express his irritation, accuse me of being a light sleeper, and move to the opposite side of the bed.

From here to wear

At first glance, a documentary about fashion and fashion photography, well, I couldn’t think of two things I was less interested in. But from the minute Bill Cunningham New York began, I was hooked. A film about a man obsessed with taking pictures of hats, legs and shoes, I would soon learn, had almost nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with history, heartbreak and art.

The world of fashion strikes me as an ugly place, filled with beautiful, ugly people, and Bill Cunningham, although considered by his peers, “The most important person in the world,” is quite alone in that world, and in the world at large.

Cunningham has little need for fabulous as I see it, because he is a true artist. His art is the kind where youth, society and commerce may have a strong presence, but have little importance.

Clothes can enhance your beauty and clothes can mask your fear, but they cannot, and they do not make the man. Just look at Cunningham, 80, in the same shirt, slacks and worn blue coat, shining like a quasar in a galaxy of stars.

Bill is a rare and lone bird, hovering over the hard edges and straight lines of a tightly stitched industry, pulling poetry from the stage and the streets, pasting together the society girl and the ghetto boy, creating a collage of the human experience.

Design alone does not make art, nor is there beauty in numbers, lunches, and a list of Who's Who. Ideally, fashion is outerwear for the soul's innerwear, and a woman can't expand her heart by putting on the right dress.

But Cunningham embodies expansion; he does not swim with the sharks in shallow water--he lives on the bright side, and in the deep end. The divine and broken self, the artist; who takes colors off the runway and onto the walkway, with determination and grace, a vision of breathing streets, hats, legs and shoes; a vision of life.

Secret

I used to be so grateful when the email alert on my phone was from him... and now I'm just grateful when it's not.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I was standing with a young girl beside an aquatic display, and one of the things on the table was a sea anemone. The girl yanked it from its tank, tossed it to the side, and made a careless joke. Then I picked it up and looked at its underbelly.

"It's alive," you know? I said to the girl, and she gave me a stunned look.

"No it's not," she replied curtly, but when I put it back into the tank, it quickly buried itself into the sand. I looked at the girl again who realized her mistake.

I said, "A sea anemone is not your enemy, see?"

Pretty words

A guy who says he'll give you everything he has, is usually the guy who has nothing to give.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed of melting plastic.

Happy Birthday!

Today, At the Half Note turns five!

May 25th, 1932-February 16th, 1996

"You can't reach my age without learning a few things. I know by long and bitter experience that it's almost impossible to keep two bars of soap in the same soap dish. There must be something else, but it doesn't come to mind."

~Roger Bowen

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Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't.

~Margaret Thatcher

I like that

I like that I can wake up in the middle of the night and play online Scrabble if I want to. I like that I can go to dinner with my ex-husband and our child, then stop at a chocolate shop for treats. I like being able to cook a meal, order take-out, or eat nothing at all. I like clicking my mouse, washing dishes without gloves, and wearing my hair up. I like writing a book, and I like facebook. I like that I no longer doubt the importance of the role I play in my daughter's life. I like that my body is at ease, and my breath is not held, and I like that the only surprises occurring these days are the ones that feel good. I like that I'm surrounded by people with strong minds and gentle hearts, and I like that this is the only reality in which I will ever live again. I like that when the day comes to chose someone to walk beside, I know I'll chose a man who speaks my language; who is imperfect, but whose life will meld with mine. I like that I'm certain he won't be in disguise the way he's been so many times before, because for the first time, my eyes are wide open... and I like that; I like that most of all.

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Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.

~Carl Jung

Phone pas

When I woke up this morning, I checked the weather on my Droid and it said 70 degrees! I was perplexed, excited, delirious, in fact; I couldn't wait to go outside! Then I noticed the displayed city on the screen. For some reason my Droid thought it was in Cupertino, California.

Sometimes I wonder

Where did I go, and when will I return; was I ever the woman I thought I was, or is this who I've always been? Is this who I am?

Journal entry, March 1999

Dear Annie,

Tonight as you lay asleep in your crib, I am missing you. It's a familiar feeling, the feeling that I can never have you enough. Like loving a great piece of art or a perfect jazz tune, I am moved in a way that makes me want to fly, but I can’t. And because my love makes me want to fly but I can’t, I am forced to slow down, come down, push aside something too big to fit in my brain and body.

But my heart, it expands every day that you are with me. It can burst, shine and breathe, and hold you at the same time. It can carry all the love I have for you from before I was born, and forward a thousand years. And yes, with you perched safely on its wings, it can even fly.

Middle man

I used to like the good guys, then I liked the bad boys, and now... I prefer something in between.

Snow

Click here for a few photos from my walk through Central Park.

Red flags

How do know that when a red flag flies, you didn't hoist it yourself without even knowing? How can you trust that the feeling in your gut is your faithful alarm, set to go off when you walk the wrong way? How can you be certain, when you hear your own voice, that the sound of suspicion is really just that, or if it's fear and confusion, because you stopped listening to yourself for so long that you just can't tell anything anymore?

Back by popular demand

For some creative, mindless fun, visit my newly resurrected blog, Wordification.

Sitting at the sidebar

Beethoven's Piano Sonata # 25 in G, Op. 79, performed by Alfred Brendel... beautiful.

In real time

Home today, coffee brews--big 'ol snowflakes fall outside my window.

Looking forward...

... to what's coming next...

Look closely...

This car has my name written all over it.

Too much to ask

I never needed a Savior, just a man with my best interest at heart. I never wanted a Prince, just a man to speak to me with kindness. I never longed for a Casanova, just a man to love to me right, and I never required a Knight in Shining Armor, just a man to keep me out of harm's way.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I was covered in shit. I frantically ran around looking for a washing machine and laundry soap, but people kept advising me to simply spray myself with perfume.

"I'm not going to cover it up!" I shouted, "I want this off of me!"

When I spotted a washer and dryer, it was barricaded and I couldn't get through, so I ran to another location, found a box of detergent, then darted into a public bathroom and saw a sink and shower. Not caring that people were watching, I stripped off all my clothes.

I was determined to, and I did, wash myself clean.

Early signs of love

This photograph hangs on my wall, right beside a great big window where I sit and think about the last year of my life, the years before that, the steps I have taken to get here, and the steps I'll take to move on.

I was once with a man who, no matter how much I wanted him to be, was not the man for me. And sometimes I think to myself, if only I could change reality. If only I could go back to when he was a boy, and be the one to take care of him then. I would have told him how good he was, how smart he was, and how brave he was; and all of those things would have been true. I would have told him that to become better you have to make mistakes, and to become who you are you have to be all of who you are. I would have written songs for him, baked pies for him, and sung to him at night. I would have been his cheerleader at the game, his protector at home, and his ally in the world.

But in this reality, my power is limited, and my love was never enough to make things right.

And as I sit by the window wishing he could have been what I wanted, or that I could have been what he needed, I see the picture that hangs on my wall. There she is: my chance, my turn.

She is the one under my care and protection, she is the one I nurture and sing to--she is the one who might someday be the mother to a beautiful and deserving boy, and posses the power to heal his heart long before it ever breaks.

Secret...

I really love my blog.

Lesson #846,718,403

It's okay for a man to knock you off your feet... it's just not okay for him to keep you off balance.

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Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

~ Martin Luther King Jr.

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A man can't ride your back unless it's bent~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

Sweet solitude

My intense desire for excitement is paralleled only by my insatiable need for peace.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I walked outside and saw something that's never seen: a great big New York City sky full of constellations!

Today

Go Jets!

Shame on me

I once had a boyfriend who left me at home and spent the day at a nude beach with his ex-wife. Upon reflection, the complete lack of regard and respect for me in that one incident warranted a breakup, yet I tolerated so many more like it. Now, every so often, I think to myself: Katie-Girl, why did you ever put UP with that shit?

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I was driving a huge bus, and when I pulled over, I saw a massive amount of ice weighing down the front end. With my bare hands, I began pulling off the enormous frozen sheets, and much to my surprise, they broke off with ease. I also noticed there was no more snow on the ground, and that the day had become unseasonably warm.

Ice breaker

Snow is like a relationship. The first fall of the season is so beautiful; pure, magical, untouched, and we're so excited and full of hope. But then we have to walk through its aftermath; all the cold, muddy mess, so the next time it falls we're just goin', "Oh hell, not again!"

Do you ever...?

... see someone standing on the corner who looks kind of like what your father would look like today if he were still alive? Do you ever follow that man with your eyes as he makes his way across the street, and imagine it's really him, and that you're walking beside him, holding his hand?

I do.