i admit the ease[l] of 'public artistry' is somewhat retreating at the moment ;). I thought about writing today on this thingy... my mind ran thru a spectrum of ideas caught my attention & i contemplated casting some of them into the great cybersphere... perhaps of my profound horror in today's tragic events [and consequential political opinions- but i leave that to better writers and their audiences] or just having to buy my darn lipstick off of Ebay because they discontinued the color.... amazing how much goes on in a day...either way- I'm really not going to bother with cohesive prose at the moment... life is just simultaneously too trivial and too meaningful and thus is at times, rendered inexplainable....

We are like roses
that have never bothered to
bloom
when we should have bloomed
and
it is as if
the sun has become disgusted
with
waiting.

She's got it all figured out

She knows what everything's about

And when anybody doubts her,

Or sings songs without her

She's just so mmm

She knows the world is just her stage

And so she'll never misbehave

She gives thanks for what they gave her Man,

they practically made her

Into a mmm

i'm not sorry for taking too many solo moon walks this past week.... This is for my sistah who feels like and i qoute: "Edward Much's "The Scream"" which has always looked to me like some homesick alien melting into the sidewalk of oblivion...
bummer girly girl...
now that's a horrible image right there.
i am so................................ not there.

Okay, that's IT. i've had enough.
Time for a major intervention.
i'm serious. get up.
time to take out the big kitchen potions...

How to regain some sense of self: [or some semblance of whatever it is your self may have been]

1. put love on your list of things to do and just fahget about it for a while... it will come when it will come without your obsessive worrying and shidduch squatting.
2. give yourself time... take a while and figure things out & do not apologize for needing space
3. wear your hair down- believe it or not there's stress in the nest and which girl doesn't feel beautiful without the ponytail- horse image?
4. drink tea- decoffeenate for a spell it gives the illusion of inner-clean and bodily wellbeing
5. call your friend and make time to hang in her hot Murano with some lamo 'ex-cool' music
6. read a book that you wanted to read for a while... and actually finish it.
7. take a walk around the block...like 50 times till your house appears to be a beacon on the horizon or an undiscovered island of adventure.
8. take a bubble bath and do not think of anything life-related [besides the will not 2 drown] no more "am i hot" or "am i cold" just soak up some h2O and bbbrrreeaaattthheee then fluff up dem pillows and go to sleep... [coming from someone who hasn't slept in 4 years this is truly essential... & yes if you must NyQuil shots are allowed provided that you don't over do it ;) ]
9. get offline!!! deWIRE and reclaim the LiGHT of the SUN and the aNTI neon-ian Screen!
10. stop thinking of all the things that stress you out... and if you must think... redirect your thoughts to some of the beautiful, wonderful, and absolutely brilliant things that there are to do... and by Georgio Armani... go try to do them.

and yes, love, i will not be a chicken licken [the book is Hindy the Hen by the by ;)] -
i'm having a reading on March 9th @ SUBO @ Occidental Lounge @ BC - some finalist literary award [i expect the usuals ;)]. will also be reading some poetry from my mini compiliation {i finally put it together!} and yes i'll mail a copy to Lisbon ;) ... and to y'all that asked for a copy of my brain waves...

o' militant feminist i leave this ever so slightly changed until you confirm your well being ;)
from your [speaking of societal definitions] : free-spirited, yet overly intense, gypsy sistah, who happens to read a lot and tends to form outlandish opinions [that turn out not to be too outlandish] and refuses to wait around like a hunk of meat or any other poultry product... and would much rather get high on other people's creativity and modes of thinking... oh yeah.... i forgot i think i'm a social recluse too... ;)
i think that just about sums up the current one on my self-advertisment.... we should update every so often ;)

okay, seriously... got to go finish studying, ol' Max Weber and i have a date... much energy sent your way... and yes, this post will self destruct after you read it ;)

to be honest- i wasn't planning on writing anything tonight... but it is 1:30am again, and i got this nice steaming mug of oolang tea...it's quiet [this house has been pretty cookooey]. it's still [no peoples underfoot]. everything just suspends for a few hours. i was watching the kinus on the internet for a bit. feels a little surreal. actually i'll be honest, it feels very surreal. as of late, i find this whole weekend just a tad overwhelming....not too long ago i was one of those people scurrying on the stage organizing kids in choirs...participating in dances in the production [until that unfortunate incident involving pneumonia and a wardrobe malfunction ;) rose i'm sure you'll recall that ;)] i recognize some of the faces, my, my people are growing up real fast [i suddenly do feel a little old]. some of those new shluchos are married classmates, some of those new counselors are former campers, kids i spent three nights making random ice cream parties with and cheering how proud we are that they are who they are...man... feels like eons ago...well the times they are a'changing... or at least i am a'changing [thank gd i suppose, we need to allow ourselve to become what we are meant to be].... still, i don't think think the kinus vs. my current predicament defines me one way or another...truthfully, i don't think people it is a simple process to categorize an individual as either a "conformist" or a "non-conformist" [i'm talking those that remain amongst us]... those that are truly genuine integrate as much as they can, we were all meant to become something else...to remain conscious and incorporate chassidus wherever our lives may lead... i disagree with what was written on some other blogs. Chabad has bred the original Non-Conformist. Tanya is nothing if not the Manifesto of Divine Revolution. Essenitally, the Shliach is nothing if not the Anti-Thesis of the Typical [i.e. robotic] I've discussed this with my grandpops at length... the system is simply structured to breed independent learners and thinkers. people who are strong and able to persue something a little beyond... Life, has this inexplainable way of landing us in places we may never have anticipated...but i like to think that that's all part of it... the Grand Master Plan...I had a seminary teacher [who actually became Lubavitch] that once told me [and i qoute verbatim] "Tanya was written for those who do struggle, for those who do question, not the person who easily accepts every word a teacher says." It's not for the 12-step 'land-a-shidduch' people...in life one must never be stagnant, there's no Nirvana [not when you get into the 'best' seminary, not when you land the 'best spouse'] we can choose to ignore who we are and follow the societal code to success, or we can be conscious of who we are and our fall backs and struggle with them for the rest of our lives... a struggle, that only affirms our existence... maybe those who criticize what is essentially themselves reacting to the system, those who struggle to find a place within the community, those young men and women who require just a little longer to find their spiritual niche, are the greatest products of the system [which was never intended to be a production line] maybe they should stop holding themselves as default manufacturing and as embarrassments... if you're thinking, if you're questioning... you're growing and that's the whole point.
okay, i'm out.

ma responds..

lovely hearing from you all.

to mrs. krinsky's victim- krinsky is with a 'y' and we like it that way. i'm too old to change. anybody who admits to being my victim, is definitely not my victim, so dream on... you're not it. i know who my victim is [Hindi interjects: my mother is not a paranoid schizophrenic]. but thanks for the post anyway- it just made me feel great- blog-wise.

to the EX:i believe that names are given at birth should remain for 120 eons. much thought went into your parents picking your name....poor grandpa... i hope he's not making too many 'koolahs', like Hinda Leah's poor great great grandmother (who she happens to resemble in scary ways- they both hate/d eggs) [Hindi: my mother consciously wants to sound like a NERD and no, we are not at all embarrassed- embrace your inner Nerdom.... Mama: "That's only because i let you live here rent free" ....Hindi: uh.... Mama: "I will not listen to you with that stupid name spelling...get back on that post and change it!" ....Hindi: hahahhahah]

our guest is saying that his grandfather said "don't call a stupid kid, Stupid... stupid."

Lea-We haven't seen you in a long time- the door is always open and we'll leave the light on.

Sari-We missed your friday night conversation and your refereeing- how IS your appendix holding up? Did the remedies help?? I guess they weren't so effective because you never returned for more kitchen potions. i love blogging, but i type pretty slow and Hindy doesn't always want to help me... (currently there are tears in my eyes from laughing- oy...)

it's a good thing i only have three minutes a day for computer time, usually spent deleting the emails from flathunting that hindy got me stuck with.
but i still like her.i'll keep her for a while... but not much longer. to be honest we're thinking of turning her extremely large, well light, beautiful room into a home office. feel free to write about various topics or personal issues. social work is my field [Hindi: omg- she's advertising!!] and i'll answer... i'm thinking becoming the next cyber Dr. Mary [Phil-ish] [Hindi: what?! since when are ALL my friends messed up??!!! Ma: Not messed up.... just not the run of mill...no insult intended... any friend of yours is friend of mine...hindi: well, usually, anyway.

shalom. and shavuah tov.

a message from my ma [seriously]

Ma: "this blog has become too political, too intellectual and much too boring for the over 40 crowd"
Hindi: "what, dear mother do you propose i write about?"
Ma: "i don't know, something exciting happening in life, like the naming of our new washing machines..."
Hindi: "you want me to write about Bella and Stella? Ma, washing machines are totally boring..."
Ma: "or may be about all the activities going on this house..."
Hindi: eyebrows raised
Ma: "oy just erase that... i don't know... i really don't know... but if you want to keep your crowd find something a little more exciting..."
Hindi: "i'm really drawing a blank... uhm....
Ma: "Ask your readers for suggestions..."
Hindi: "Ma... that is so nerdy."
Ma: "Listen, unlike you, i have a life... and now i have to go..."
Hindi: "I also have a life, is it my fault it's currently revolving around instant bed making for random ghost guests and igneous rocks?"
Ma: "Rocks? What rocks?"
Hindi: "Ma... my test tomorrow... the one on the stupid rocks... that i've been studying for three days for..."
Ma: "They are stupid and I don't know why you are taking such a stupid subject.... what's the subject called anyway?"
Hindi: "The same thing Moo's taking for a year now..."
Ma: "called what?"
Hindi: "the science of the earth, fascinatingly boring, makes laundry look cool"
Ma: "well, listen, why can't you take a class on domesticity, and learn how to use the new lettuce spinner that you almost broke...now that's important... and honey when did you drop your 'y' i'm taking it as a personal offense to both your father and particularly myself... i demand the Y return!!!
Hindi: "okay... fine.... i'll bring back the 'y' even tho 'i' looks more balanced...
Ma: "what's this about balance?! You were never balanced! whoever told you such a bubeh meiseh!"
Hindy: "Bubby Hesh. actually...."
Ma: "Seriously, the night is late... go make lunch for tomorrow and concentrate on not breaking the new lettuce spinner... nice meeting y'all- and please voice your opinions on how boring this blog has been, i know i'm not alone...you're all just too scared to speak up.... and the person who is always bashing my daughter and her opinions.... i'm onto you... i really am... and i know who you are... i'll be watching you..."
Hindy: "Ma, i think you need some sleep...your snapping into a few pieces... you think anyone is going to believe us that we are sitting here typing this together like we have nothing better to do at 12:45 am?"
Ma: "i guess it's genetic."
Hindy: "well now we don't have to worry about blog readers...it's just you and me... and we live together anyway..."
Ma: "But this is much more fun than talking..."
G'Night.

take two on the snow day

Okay, let me attempt to clarify (i know i have a tendency towards ambiguity) As someone who cannot see things in black and white, i cannot explain why i am drawn to black and white... drawings, photographs... maybe it's the comfort, the superficial calm that the illusion represents.
It's all around us, and yet it is an interior wallpaper, one that cannot extend beyond the decor of our own minds...it is the ink on this clean page, the wet footprints on the retreating white sand, it is the terminology used to identify he that is "chassidic" and he that is "not"....
There is an ancient Chinese proverb (and I have no clue of its source, only that it's in my head) "Knowing the white, keeping the black, and the illumination of spirit will come". Seems somewhat remeniscent of the ying-yang theory....and somehow our own mentality. Black and white seems to represent everything that is "right" and is "wrong".
Okay, now to ground my "abstraction" into reality. Black and White, is that the true photographic image of reality? Now, i know that if i say that wearing the Chabad uniform does not classify you as a true member of the movement, i will probably be misinterpeted. So taking the risk here, I'm going to say, that there is a world beyond black and white garb, meaning, that (and this goes for the female equivalent as well) "walking the line" is not the end of the line itself. Okay, so to further explain this colorful rhetoric. If we can claim that Chassidus is about process, not product, then we can argue that wearing the black and white does not NECESSARILY acknowledge process over product. It is not the answer to the everpresent Question-

So my thought here was, Reality does not exist in terms of black and white, that much is obvious (otherwise what are the colors doing here?) Black and White is an ideal situation, morally based, theologically constructed, and even a product of human idealism. The World of Black and White is an ideal one, not a realistic one. See, this argument is way more simplistic then you think...

I've wondered on every clean sheet of paper, in every snowflake that touches the inky pavement... I've wondered why we crave a world of black and white? A world that has never existed and never will.... Why are we always running in pursuit of a picture that lacks the vitality of color? [And here, color is not that which divides our vision of goodness and kindness, it is not an excuse to an unending spectrum of religious or personal justifications, simply it is the all-encompassing reality that binds who we are and what we are aiming to accomplish]. Why are we looking to retreat into that which conceals the cars on my block, and gives you nothing but the stark nakedness of endless Whiteness contrasted with endless Blackness? Why are we looking to escape into the piling mediocrity of a non-existent reality called Black and White? And even those that claim that the Torah (ink on paper) seems to dictate a black and white reality, i will have to disagree. Torah may teach of a holy ideal, a moral goal, a higher objective, but that by no means dicates a reality of Black and White (think about its not contradictory, especially thru a Chasidic interpetation) if anything it makes room to encompass, it seeks to unify the world, life, Creator and Creation. Even on a religious compass, if the world was so utterly definable in terms of black and white, why would Halachists need to argue out their interpetations in endless pages? (see black and white is not the same as "right" and "wrong".)

So if we attempt to lose ourselves in binary terms, we are running away from who we are, from the spectrum, the complexity of many colors. We don't live in Pleasantville... we live here, even tho i must admit that Kingston Avenue is far more palatable in the snow... ;)
i hope this somewhat clarifies (cheers to the Chabad.org poster ;) and D. stop politicizing everything i say- contrary to what most people argue, to me, not everything is so political)
and now i gtg do my homework and have some time to enjoy my snow day.
by the way- my snow boots are black and white polka dots ;)

the holy week and the holy day

"The child who dwells inside us trusts that there are wise men somewhere who know the truth. That is the source of the beauty and passion of intellectual pursuits- in philosophical adn theological books, in lecture halls. Various "initiations into mystery" were also said to satisfy that need, be it through the alchemist's workshop or acceptance into a lodge (let us recall Mozart's Magic Flute). As we move from youthful enthusiasms to the bitterness of maturity, it become ever more difficult to anticipate that we will discover the center of true wisdom, and then one day, suddenly, we realize that others expect to hear dazzling truths from us (literal or figurative) graybeards."

-"If Only This Could Be Said" by Czeslaw Milosz (Polish, Nobel Prize of Literature whom both I and my housekeeper are major fans of)

Words would be superfulous following such a statement. Truth is You. Believe It. Live. It. end story.

musical accompaniment: http://www.myspace.com/sm8thday [thanx na hama]

a peaceful, beautiful, and we-got-such-good-food-and-wonderful-guests-sort-of-shabbos....

gone, going.... gone...

A sunny, blustery afternoon...somewhat Simon and Garfunklesque... cold, brilliant and with only an ink-stained impression of warmth. The type of day that demands disorder, papers flying, hair in abandon, comandeering any sense of neatness and overall human control. As I walk back and forth between classes in my dissheveled state (it is not the day to bother with hair pins and hats) the wind is fierce and so invigorating that I don't care that I'm late... I need to fill my lungs with air (even if it is toxic Brooklyn waste). .... still, despite how far you venture into the life of the rolling stone, the well-lived life is not without discipline. Audrey Hepburn once said that "we are nothing without discipline." True that... What is discipline if not the ultimate expression of self-empowerment? Despite this, most people are under the misconception that disciplined folk are anal retentive, tunnel-minded, saggy old men. Certainly open-mindedness, expansive thinking and flexibility are not the traits that readily synonmous with discipline, even though they define the term best. The ultimate manifestation of disciplined life is the capacity to be self-oriented enough to reevaluate objectives, circumstances and even the Self if so necessary.

The truly disciplined life is not lived casually, is not without constant examination and awareness. It's a struggle to differentiate discipline from habitual behavior. It's a faded border. To a certain degree one can make a life- habit out of discipline, but one should never discipline themselves into a set habit, outlook or perspective (thus enter the anal-retentive men). Most of us define discipline in terms of habit. It is our sense of order, our mental neatness, the sock drawer of our ancharistic thoughts, our precarious grip on reality and our uncertain existence. Do we discipline ourselves under the illusion that we are in control? Do we discipline ourselves into habits as a means to control both action and reaction?

I believe that despite naive idealism there comes a morning that dawns with the great realization...suddenly we do not have control (hallelujah. isn't that liberating?). it is the morning you arise stripped of your youthful omnipotence, free from the illusion of knowing and controlling everything that will and will not happen to you. I've walked along that line of consciousness many a time... control is not discipline/ discipline is not habit... hmm... you can control reaction, but the action itself occurs independent of the participant. Because we cannot control circumstance, we are left with the task of solely disciplining The Experience, expanding our own empirical reference base. We can only discipline our own consciousness. Beyond the Self the world is mysterious and dark, and it is not without reason that the only path of discovery lies with untangling the complexity of the Self.... remarkable that life cannot be disciplined but you can somehow lead a disciplined life.

No, I don't believe that fate is destined. I believe that we carve our own destiny from the circumstances we have been presented with. Discipline is comanding your own self-respect. It is the only true way to believe in yourself...your work...your purpose.... by being aware of your own capacity to regulate your life...by making choices that change who you are what you will become, and most importantly by realizing that there is true discipline in being a risk-taker and seizing every opportunity that comes your way...

"Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings. An empty stream, a great silence, an impenetrable forest. The air was warm, thick, heavy, sluggish. There was no joy in the brilliance of sunshine...You lost your way on that river as you would in a desert...till you thought yourself bewitched and cut off forever from everything you have known once- somewhere- far away- in another existence perhaps."

Not sure why this thought came to mind...maybe because its Monday....damn. i'm late.

excerpt of the day: boys are smelly
throw rocks at them. (from David and Goliath in Wakiki, Hawaii)

revolutionary platform of the hour: bring back keds with curly neon laces.

linguistic sentiment: the term narly has returned.

general thoughts: ugh.

i hate when life (and people) have become predictable.
i'm so sick of it.
what a bummer.