tightrope or 3 of 3

I missed a week. I know. But a snowy Midwestern visit somehow caused things to slip a bit. So here’s the last of my year end three. I wanted to generate a list of the more universal things that bring me joy or fill me with wonder. And I started it about a dozen times but it seemed lacking or less. So here’s a little list of the bits and pieces that float to the top of the “what I love” pile. It’s forever growing and shifting, so I’m open to suggestions.

And then, as I am prone to do, I’m sharing probably the most poignant moment I have experienced, the one that still rattles with its own enormity.

The Itty Bitty Kitty Committee

The PS 22 chorus

Six Feet Under


The Lower East Side Tenement Museum

The Staten Island Ferry (it’s free too)


The Cliffs of Moher in Ireland

The Time Traveler’s Wife (in BOOK form)

Running on Empty

The Butterfly room at The Natural History Museum

The actual painting of Vincent Van Gogh’s The Starry Night

Matisyahu (he’s amazing)

Dante Gabriel Rosetti’s Beata Beatrix

The Damnwells

Art Start

Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice

Clinton Lake

The Dalai Lama speaking in Central Park on May 23, 2010 (let’s go)

Finally, a moment I hold almost above all others: on a visit to London I was privileged enough to inadvertently come across the Dorchester Hotel at the exact moment that Nelson Mandela was standing outside the building. He was talking to a few people, perhaps a press conference had recently ended or he was simply chatting with some other guests. We took a picture from across the road in Hyde Park, as not to be too rude, and then made our way over. He was gracious and so kind, he wished everyone well and then headed inside.

It was this amazing moment where I was so keenly aware of my small blip in the human existence. How I had so much work to do if I even hoped to make any kind of impact. I know that artists can create work that is meaningful and transcendent, but nothing compares to surviving 27 years in prison and leading a deeply divided country to multi-racial democracy. No matter how hard I try, I can never give that much or mean that much. And somehow it’s good to know and remember that, so that I simply try to forge my own path in its small and steady way.

I came across a quote that seems mantra worthy:

“Life is always a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope.”

Edith Wharton

I wish you every blessing for the year ahead,


“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.”

T. S. Eliot

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