Some stills from Fuerza Bruta!

Mural on the wall of the loading dock

Running the mylar wall

Among the pre-show instructions:
"When touching the scenery, please do so gently, with the palm of your hand"

The faces of the audience are reflected in the bottom of the pool as it floats away.

Confetti!

Fuerza Bruta!

When I saw this show in New York, it was one of the most jaw-dropping spectacles I had ever seen. Naturally, when the show traveled to Miami, I had to experience it again. Enjoy some stills and video from my point of view.
And, yes, that pool is suspended above the audience.

In Memory of Joe Goldstein

The 2009 World Baseball Classic
Round 2, Pool 2
Miami, FL -- Dolphins Stadium

The Marlins have a group of male cheerleaders known as the Manatees.
The guy in the middle is known as "Tiny."

Joey couldn't make it to the series.
We enjoyed the game in his memory.

Patriotism

An astonishing and unexpected change has occurred within me. I have become patriotic. I’d always been wary of wholesale patriotism. It felt slightly embarrassing. Crowds of Americans chanting “USA! USA!” at sporting events made me vaguely uneasy (ok, that probably hasn’t changed). Please understand – I did not consider all patriotism unwarranted. Those individuals who sacrifice of themselves for our nation are right to feel proud, as are those, like my maternal grandparents, who chose freedom deliberately at great personal risk and cost. But apart from casting my ballot faithfully, what have I done to deserve that particular brand of pride we call patriotism? Let’s face it: the fact that I am an American is simply an (exquisitely fortunate) accident of birth. I guess you could say that I thought of my American-ness as a personal attribute much like my curly hair; something I appreciate but didn’t fight for or choose, and as such, an insufficient thing over which to make a tremendous fuss.

And then I watched a new chapter of history being written before my eyes. I saw something that many of us hoped, but feared, would never happen. America elected Barack Obama. In huge numbers. Fair and square. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, not just because my candidate had prevailed or because a racial barrier had fallen, but also because the victory was decisive. After the traumatic push-me-pull-you of the 2000 election, anything less might have ripped a gaping wound in the fabric of our society. I felt grateful that an engaged electorate had participated vigorously in democracy. And I felt proud.

On Tuesday, I watched the inauguration coverage on a big screen amongst other students. One of the announcers made reference to a peaceful transfer of power. As I watched the four former presidents take their seats I considered the concept of a peaceful transfer of power. And then I thought of the millions of people in nations around the world who must be mystified and bewildered by our ceremony. “These men simply walked away from power? Without a fight? Surely not!”

We live in a world where so many are governed by despots who cling to power at any cost. Where a change in government is always accompanied by upheaval, violence, and frightful instability. As Americans, it is easy to take this aspect of our democracy for granted. After all, democracy has taken hold in other nations. We are not unique in this respect. But suddenly, I did not take the peaceful transfer of power for granted. A rather sizable minority voted for the other guy, but those folks didn’t riot in the streets. Some Americans may be accepting new leadership grudgingly, but accept it, they have. As I mulled this over, tears streaming down my cheeks, I was struck by the magnitude of our collective achievement. And in that moment, I became patriotic.

Now, more than anything, I have hope. Sometimes I have reservations because the challenges our President must face are so profound and the expectations of him are so high. How can this man, no matter how talented, intelligent, thoughtful, dignified, or principled tackle our troubles while living up to superhuman standards? Still, President Obama inspires in me a hope that resists being extinguished. He inspired a nation to reject decision-making based on fear and to embrace, instead, the simple but powerful idea that “YES WE CAN.” I could have conceived of the idea that I might one day see the election of an African-American to the nation’s highest office. But after years of nursing a deeply ingrained political cynicism, I never dared to dream that in my lifetime I would be able to shed that cynicism and unabashedly proclaim beaming pride in my President. Never before have I felt this way about a leader. I didn’t think it was possible.

President Obama has spent only one working day in office, but already he has begun to live up to the ideals that he laid forth and with which he won my heart. An ethics class for his staff? Glory! Hail to the chief, indeed.

Portraiture

A rare, non-goofy snapshot.

My cousin, Hans, wondering where the fish are.

Adriana is suspicious of how this photo will turn out.

My cousin Karla's son, Peter Daniel.
My brother, mere days before turning 20. Still no fish.

Spotted at Palacio de los Jugos

Exemplars also available at Dolphin Stadium:

Rain's Coming . . .

Not long ago we took the boat out in the late afternoon just as some rain clouds began to roll in. This is the view over Fisher Island out to the ocean.


We made time to go to Jimbo's for some smoked fish. It's hidden among the mangroves:


We passed by the Port of Miami. The cranes are simply tremendous; the container ships utterly massive.



To get a sense of scale, look at this picture of the bumpers. Those are not car tires, but truck tires. They are barely visible in the photos above.


Looking behind us we could see the clouds rolling in over downtown Miami, but with the sun bursting out the top.

Joyful Dancing

This guy (genius, in my mind), went around the world and did a little happy dance everywhere he went. The video is like joy in a bottle:



See the outtakes here:



Learn more at his website.

Playing The Building

During my recent trip to New York, Emily and I visited an art installation called Playing the Building by former Talking Heads frontman David Byrne and Creative Time. It is located in the Battery Maritime Building in lower Manhattan, next door to the Staten Island Ferry. It has a rich history that you can read about here. It's a gorgeous building that has stood empty for quite some time. As you can see, the exterior has undergone renovation. The interior will get an overhaul once the installation is done at the end of August.

Here's a view of the building from the water.

Because of the condition of the building, you have to sign a waiver before entering. I really enjoyed getting a chance to see the interior in this way. We live in a world where new=good. But this space was beautifully decrepit. I was taken with the details of its decay.

The installation itself originated in Stockholm before making its way to New York. A small, antique church organ is connected via wires, tubes, and other engineering voodoo to various parts of the building. In front of the organ, painted on the floor, is this invitation:

When you press one of the keys it might rattle the radiator. Another blows air past a heating pipe creating an ersatz flute. A third raps on a metal column. It's strange to describe because it is so deceptively simple. When you play the organ, you are literally playing the building. I was raised on a steady diet of Talking Heads music, so I already had great respect for David Byrne. My hat's off to him for coming up with something so clever and wonderful.

The space itself is a masterpiece. Having the lower portion painted in white provided a wonderful juxtaposition of clean openness with neglect and decay.

The weather was beautiful the day that Emily and I visited. The early afternoon light poured through the massive skylight, making stunning patterns on the floor and walls.

At that hour on a Friday, we didn't have to wait long to try the organ for ourselves. Here's virtuoso, Emily:

No matter what words I use, they will be inadquate to describe the experience. If you are in New York, I urge you to check it out yourself (Fri, Sat, Sun. 12-6pm). Short of that, you can check out this movie. Thanks to Emily for her camera work:

Visit to the Big Apple

In the middle of June, I went for a long weekend to New York City. As always, the city provided something entertaining to see:

The actual reason for the trip was to attend the wedding of Jenny and David. Jenny and I are friends from nursing school. I got to see other classmates at the wedding. It was a lovely garden ceremony. In this photo, Jenny's sister is reading a piece of poetry. What I love about it is the look David and Jenny are exchanging. You can tell they really *get* each other. Isn't that what marriage is about?

The reception was great fun, with lots of dancing. Everyone agreed that Jenny was the World's Most Entertaining Bride.

Recent Celebrations

Lately we've had occasion to celebrate a few things. First, my paternal grandmother paid us a visit all the way from Mexico City. It was a lovely, rare opportunity for us to all be together. See the family resemblance?

That same day, we celebrated Carmen's birthday, with one of her daughters, Fabienne.


Both Daddy and Benjamin will exploit any opportunity for goofiness.


Most recently, my Mom celebrated her (censored)th birthday.


Normally, we get some deeply sinful gourmet confection from Epicure. This year, I decided to resurrect a favorite from my childhood: chocolate cake with chocolate sour cream icing. You have to take my word for it that sour cream and chocolate are an excellent combination. As per usual, Paul made the coffee . . .


. . . Mom blew out the candles . . .


. . . and Benjamin ate cake and enjoyed his freshly shorn head. I keep telling him to enjoy his hair while he still can as he will almost certainly fall victim to male pattern baldness. He doesn't listen.

Hopeline Video

I've been a big fan of PostSecret for years, and even got to see Frank speak at a Border's in NYC once. He's a staunch supporter of the Hopeline. If it's good enough for Frank, it's good enough for me. Watch this to learn more:

Collegiate Shag Video

Way back in the day (ok, 2005), I went to the Dance Flurry in Saratoga Springs, NY. It's like an all-you-can-dance, morning-till-night smorgasbord of dance, music, dance, contact improv, storytelling, dance, singing, and more dance. I can't emphasize enough how wicked cool it is and that you should go. Seriously. While I was there, I got a chance to hear the dulcet tones of Reggie's Red Hot Feetwarmers. I liked them so much, I bought a CD on the spot. They are your one-stop shop for old-timey goodness. Anyway, they were doing their thing in the hallway when the very talented John Druzba and Caitlin Rober-Looker took to the floor and tore it up but good. I've had this video under my hat for some time but it wasn't until I made a little movie for my friend Jenny after her wedding (Hi, Jenny!!) that I mastered the iMovie skills necessary to bring this little gem to you, the public. So, here you have it:

Armando Eduardo de Zayas

My family mourns the passing of my grandfather, Armando Eduardo de Zayas, on June 2nd, 2008. My brother and I knew him simply as Alo. He was 89. He is pictured here with my late grandmother, Ela. We miss them both terribly.

Sounds like a headline from The Onion

Imagine my relief when I went to the New York Times website today and discovered that the:

Space Station Toilet is Working Again

What a relief - I was going to start losing sleep. Now if they can just get the microwave to stop throwing off sparks we could have ourselves a real space program!

Taking Flight

Not long ago, I discovered that there is a birds' nest outside my window. To my untrained eye, they appear to be bluejays (of the non-Toronto variety). The nest is nearly invisible - nestled behind some palm fronds. I only noticed it when I saw the parents swooping in and caught fleeting glimpses of little begging mouths darting about. I think part of the nest is made up of those plastic rings that hold six-packs together. And here I was, cutting them up so they wouldn't choke the fishies! ;) Here are the parents. The nest is behind the bunch of leaves to the left of the lower bird. Like I said, invisible.


Action shot!


One of the parents even stopped on my windowsill, as if to say, "Is that a new 2G MacBook?"


I think I got lucky today. I don't know how much longer the babies will be in the nest. After breakfast, the nestlings started hopping about on nearby branches and trying out their wings. I caught Mr. Adventurous here just before he flew off. What a look of determination!


A sibling's flight attempt was somewhat less graceful as he got caught in the palm. The parent was utterly unconcerned. Eventually the little took on a more graceful posture.


Finally, the money shot. Check out that beautiful plumage!

I laughed and laughed . . .

see more crazy cat pics



see more crazy cat pics



see more crazy cat pics

Catching Up

It's been a long while since I've posted. I had to pack up and leave New York. Moving is always such an ordeal. Thankfully, my Mom came up and gave me a hand. Some of my friends came out to send me off in style.


We indulged in a serious chocolate fix at Max Brenner. Let's just say they have an *extensive* chocolate menu.

When I got to Miami I spent a couple of weeks at my Mom's while my room at Daddy's (formerly my brother's room) was cleaned out and repainted. I stayed busy with, if memory serves, 4 trips to IKEA in the space of about a week and a half. The room is looking pretty good but I still haven't taken pictures. Electricians have been re-wiring the entire building since I arrived. Joy of joys, the breaker panel is in my bedroom. Let's just say that electricians are now my least favorite group of people on earth. They really know how to leave a mess in their wake. Supposedly, their work is done. Now we can go about patching up the holes in the walls and bring in the paintings to really complete the room. While the electricians were busy making dust and leaving wire-pulling grease on my brand new white furniture, I acquired the true Miami necessity: an automobile! She's a 2007 Honda Accord and I got her with barely 8,000 miles on her.


The last time I had a car - a green Saturn station wagon - I called her Iolanthe. This car has a more, um, subtle personality. A name has not immediately suggested itself. I welcome your input.

A while back, I enjoyed a ride on Daddy's boat with him and Carmen.


Here I am pretending I know how to drive the thing.


Chocolate was again the theme when we celebrated my grandfather's 89th birthday. Don't be fooled by the size of the cake - that stuff is potent.

The real treat was just continuing to enjoy my grandfather's company. He is in remarkably good health for his age. We should all be so lucky.

It hasn't all been fun and games. Even if I'm not paying rent, I have to pay for the car somehow. Just when I had given up on the idea of getting a travel nursing assignment here in Miami, I got a call from my agency asking me if I was available for an assignment at my first choice hospital in the Mother/Baby unit. Um, yes, please. It took what seemed like an inordinate amount of paperwork, yet another TB test, and two drug screens but I got the job over nine other candidates. I grumble about what a hassle it was, but considering the regulatory requirements involved it went very smoothly and my agency has been great. It's not often you can get a job essentially over the phone. I am now in the last three weeks of my assignment at South Miami Hospital, part of the Baptist Health South Florida system. Everyone I spoke to said it was the best hospital for Mother/Baby and has the added distinction of Magnet status.

When I was at my old job, one of the travelers there assured me that Mother/Baby nursing is essentially the same everywhere. But I found that although the basics are the same, many things are just different enough to be very noticeable. The biggest difference is that NYP Cornell is a teaching hospital while South Miami is completely private. At Cornell, there were always residents around if a patient had an emerging problem or if you just needed an order. At South Miami, if my patient is spiking a fever, for example, I would conceivably have to call their private doctor in the middle of the night. (Yes, still working 12-hour nights). Thankfully the latest I have had to call a physician so far was 10:30. The other very noticeable difference is the c-section rate. At Cornell, I thought it was appalling at nearly 40%. South Miami's is *over 60%*. A normal delivery is something of a rarity here. The other night, by chance, all five of my patients had had normal deliveries. None of the other nurses could remember the last time a nurse had that kind of assignment.

I'm a little amused by the nurses' idea of "busy" here. Since working here, I've never had to care for more than 5 moms and 6 babies. a At my old job that was a pretty good night. But the difference is that here there is a lot of help. There is at least one Patient Care Technician (PCT) at all times, sometimes two or three, to help with Mommy vital signs and baby baths.

Another big difference is in the patients themselves. I am speaking Spanish with them at least half the time. Incidentally, the deficiencies in my Spanish have made themselves abundantly clear. They also take a lot less pain medication, I think. The c-section patients switch from Percocet to Motrin pretty quickly, and many never take Percocet at all. They also go home after only 3 days. It's a good thing, too, or else there would never be an empty bed.

Everyone at South Miami has been very nice and welcoming. It's been good to get a different perspective and see how each unit and hospital has its own institutional culture. I'm not crazy about their computer charting system, which went live just as I finished orientation. Much of the staff is still struggling to adapt to the move away from paper. I'm still not quite comfortable with the elements that are still paper-based (mostly physician orders). Yuck.

Enough of work. There have been some highlights in the form of out of town visitors. My brother was here for a week and half for his spring break and I got to spend time with him on my days off. We filled our time by making skateboards. Yes, skateboards. I learned the difference between a trick board and a long board (what we made) and between a deck (the top wooden part) and the trucks (the wheely bits). Off to Home Despot we went, in search of 3/4" plywood. We borrowed a jigsaw and a sander. I helped him design the overall shape of the decks and then we got on to the graphic design for each one (4 in all). The first board on the left is my brother's.


Going down hills on a long board is called "bombing," hence the bomber.



We used decoupage to apply the newspaper and the bomber image. The second board is for a friend of his who is a fan of the Red Sox and Papelbon in particular. He's also into Ultimate Frisbee. So we created a stencil of "Paps" and had him catch a giant decoupaged frisbee. Another friend of his has been likened by his own girlfriend to a little bird, but feels strongly that Isiah Thomas is not doing the Knickerbockers any favors. Sadly, we learned about the innovative spelling of "Isiah" after the fact. The last is my favorite. We made it for my brother's girlfriend, Helen. The natural grain of the wood reminded us of sand dunes. Online we found a picture of a camel caravan and created a stencil that I applied with black sharpie. Although we liked the efffect, we felt it lacked something. When I went to the living room to adjust the AC, I noticed some ancient Ecuadorian seals that my father has displayed on a bookshelf. I made a rubbing on one of them, created a stencil, and sharpied that onto Helen's deck as well.


We liked it so much that it became the "signature" for all four decks. Here's a closeup of it on my brother's deck, "Baby D":


I had such a great time spending time with my brother doing something creative. It will be great to have him here at home this summer even though I'll be busy with school and he'll be working. I have to take advantage of his company before he goes off to Barcelona for a year of study abroad.

Speaking of Spain, one of our favorite Spaniards, Igancio (Nacho) Espla and his wife Nancy Calvo came for a visit from Panama, where they live and where we met them when I was a little girl. I had not seen Nacho for 19 years, and Nancy for maybe, 23. They were in town to sign a limited edition of silkscreens at the Americas Collection. There's Nacho, signing. Coincidentally, the work of another family friend Jorge Cavelier, is visible behind him.


Here's a family portrait that Nacho made for me when I was a little girl.


I happened to be off work much of the time Nacho and Nancy were here. I had a great time playing tour guide and all-round shopping problem solver.

It was during their visit that I went ahead and sprung for my brand new MacBook. Yay! I'm loving the new OS. It runs like a dream. I'm still figuring out what I'm going to do with the old computer, which my father affectionately calls the "coral reef." Here he is pretending to be a gangsta:

Word.

FOUND all over again

So, there's a guy named Davy Rothbart and he started a magazine and website called FOUND. The magazine is a collection of notes, letters, shopping lists, photos, etc. that have been sent in to Rothbart and collected together. One of my favorites is a little slip of paper with "Ticket for funny story starting in 5 m" written on it in a child's hand. I suggest you read here about the note that started it all. I had been following the website and sent in a couple of finds of my own but never saw them appear there. Eventually, a FOUND book was released (others have since followed). I bought it after it came out but then never got a chance to look it over because I started nursing school. It sat on my shelf, with all my other "to be read" books until yesterday when I finally had the leisure to crack it open.

As I read through the book, I was pretty sure none of my finds had made it in because I figured I must have flipped through it when I first bought it. But as I read the notes inside, I found myself secretly hoping I would rediscover some nearly-forgotten scrap from my childhood that a stranger had picked up and submitted. When I came to the acknowledgments page at the end of the book I found myself feeling a tiny bit sad both because the book was finished and because I hadn't found the time capsule for which I'd hoped.

Then I turned the page. The endpaper had one note on it that read: "Book was ok -- very informative -- If bored - throw it out. Love Mom" It looked familiar. When I looked down to the bottom of the page, I realized why. I had submitted the find! The note was labeled "FOUND by Adriana, Brooklyn, NY" How wonderfully fitting! That little gem waited about 3 years on my bookshelf for me to discover it.


If memory serves I found the slip of paper inside a very old edition of Bartlett's quotations that I purchased from a man who sets up his table in front of FIT on Seventh Avenue. He sells mostly fashion magazines, and quotes all prices in millions ("That's three million dollars"). The pocket-sized book caught my eye right away. There is no copyright date, but an inscription inside the cover has a name and the date Dec 25 07. I would have bought it sometime in 2003, perhaps, so one assumes the book was given as a Christmas gift in 1907.

So now that you know the backstory, I know you're itching to go out and buy the book, right?

Return to Davidson

Last weekend I went to my 10-year (ack!) college reunion at Davidson. Since I didn't take nearly enough photos the first time around, I spent some time recording some of my favorite sights on the beautiful campus. This is Chambers, the main academic building. At Christmastime, the whole community gathers on the lawn to hear the Chaplain speak and watch Santa rappel down the front of the building. You can't see it in the picture, but while I was there I got to see the ghost of Old Chambers. The current building is set back somewhat from the footprint of its predecessor, which burned down. When the weather is dry for prolonged periods, the grass will not grow where the footprint of Old Chambers was. We like to refer to the ladies atop the building as the chambermaids.

As a member of the Davidson College Concert Choir for two years, I spent a good amount of time rehearsing and performing in the Presbyterian church on campus. I've always liked the light, airy feel of the place.

Just inside the entrance of the library is the seal of the college. The college motto is
"Let Learning Be Cherished Where Freedom Has Arisen"

On the outside of the library are the seals and mottoes of the two societies. Founded in 1837 along with the founding of the college, the Philanthropic (motto: Truth Without Fear) and Eumenean Societies were the core of social and intellectual campus life.


Graduation from one of these societies was considered just as important as graduation from the college. The buildings of the two societies face on another at the center of old campus. In early days, students would conduct debates from the balconies across the spectator-filled lawn. Here are two views of the exterior of Philanthropic Hall.

Now, much more sparsely attended, Phi and Eu are primarily literary societies. I can't speak to what Eu does these days, but Phi still holds dear many of the original traditions. Below is the dais, with the society President's seat at the center. The portraits are of past college presidents. The Vice-President, who opens the meeting with a bible verse, sits on the President's left. The Critic sits to the right of the President and reads the Word of the Day (a newer tradition, to be sure). To the right of the Critic is a bust of Dante, who occasionally can be found wearing a scarf or hat. Not shown in the photograph are the desk of the treasurer (on Dante's right, photo left) and the desk of the Secretary (left of the Vice-President, photo right). I held the post of Secretary my senior year. I was delighted to open the massive desk and find the membership and minutes books bearing my handwriting still inside. When full, the books will return to the college archives to sit alongside their forbears. My diplomate, along with those of all other Phi graduates, is already in the archives.

Sadly, the Hall is in the same state of disrepair as it was 10 years ago. I suppose I should be grateful that it isn't much worse. Still, a renovation campaign is in order. The walls need attention and the chandelier is still missing an arm. The carpet and drapes are faded and threadbare. The furniture begs for some careful work. Here is a high quality photo from better days. Legend (possibly apocryphal) has it that the chandelier is a twin to the one made for the marriage of Napoleon III. Supposedly it hung in the Crystal Palace for the World's Fair but then was among the items sold off to settle debts for the failing enterprise. True or not, the chandelier is a college treasure. I take immense pride in being a graduate of Phi Society and hold very dear my memories of that time.

Just next to Phi Hall is Davidson's most recognizable landmark, the Well. Not visible in the picture, just behind and to the right of the Well, is the sesquicentennial garden, in commemoration of the college's 150th anniversary in 1987.

More from MP3 Experiment IV

Thanks to the magic of the internets, specifically the sub-area known as Flickr, I have more pics from that awesome day here and here.

Welcome to Vermont

I just came back from a week at Green Mountain at Fox Run.

Green Mountain is a place to learn a non-diet approach to healthy eating and activity. The program is very sane and well thought out. I brought home some valuable lessons that I am working on incorporating into my life. This is the Okemo room where the lectures are given.

This is the Upper Activity Room, where the fitness director, LynnAnn Covell, whips people into shape. It has a beautiful view of Okemo Mtn.

I got to enjoy this view every day.

MP3 Experiment IV

On August 18th, on the north end of North Cove in lower Manhattan, at precisely 4pm my mother and I became a part of Improv Everywhere's MP3 Experiment IV. We arrived wearing blue shirts. Others came in red, green, or yellow, as instructed. She and I pressed play at the appointed hour and listened to the music and instructions that followed. Our first instruction was to stand on whatever we'd been sitting on. We did so along with more than 820 others. For the next half hour we played a massive game of Twister on the plaza, followed a German tourist, pretended to walk imaginary dogs, high-fived total strangers, undertook a photography assignment (below), created a human dartboard and played freeze-tag. Mom said she felt like a kid again. It was a giddy afternoon. See the full coverage here including videos. If you look closely, you can see Mom and me lying on the grass at the bottom left of the fifth picture from the bottom. We're also just to the upper left of the purple-haired girl in an earlier photo.

Here is the self-portrait we were instructed to take:


Steve, our "omnipotent voice from above," told us to take a picture exactly one red shirt and one blue shirt.


Another of as many cameras as possible.


And then, of no cameras at all. This guy's eyes never left his book in spite of the silently boisterous and mirthful mass about him.


After the experiment ended, we had a refreshing beverage at a nearby cafe.

We made the acquaintance of a terrifically large dog named Taylor.

We wound down with a stroll through the lovely Rockefeller Park which has a whole section populated by Tom Otterness' little creatures.

Late afternoon over the Hudson River.

We wrapped up our adventure with dinner, right where we'd started, on the north side of North Cove.

Another midway

Less than two weeks after the Mt Carmel Feast closed, another fair closed down two blocks of 116th street, complete with rides. With names like "Rok n Rol," "Scat" (!), and "Dragon Wagon" how can fun not be had in spades?

One kiddie ride looked innocuous enough until I realized it was made up of tiny little tanks with names like "Jenny."

Outside My Door

I walked out of my front door the other day to discover that an entire midway was being assembled on my street. All told, the street will be closed for over a fortnight while the Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Feast and Family Festival is put up, takes place, and is taken down.

We had a saint's feast near my apartment in Williamsburg but it boasted only small kiddie rides assembled in the school parking lot. This reaches a whole different level. Among other attractions, the midway features a full-sized Merry-go-round:

This enchanting amusement called the "Tornado":

And most impressively, a full-sized ferris wheel.
I assure you the prices are full-sized as well. $4 corndog, anyone?

Parting shot

I just got a spam email today extolling the virtues of some unmissable "business opportunity" but what really bought my eye was the last line:

"My name is now zazzle."

A move sure to bring untold credibility to the spammer's brand.

Miscellanous photos

This gutted ruin is a few blocks from my apartment. I call it the mossy house.

It's close to this mystifying and fascinating billboard.

I found this charming piece of equipment in the bathroom of a family restaurant outside of Saratoga Springs, NY. It really did shoot out a rather impressive arc of "fragrant" liquid.

My brother and father are pictured here with family friend and artist Tomas Esson. He's an extraordinary Cuban painter now living in Miami. I am now the proud owner of one of his "wet drawings." It hangs in my office where the glare on the glass prevents me from getting a decent photograph.

They are standing in the front kitchen of my father's Arclinea showroom.

Just some pretty flowers from a vacation I took a few years ago.

I took this picture of "The Gates" on a blustery day in February.

Zoila Rita Dora Puig de Zayas

My grandmother, Dora, passed away on April 10 about a month shy of her 83rd birthday. We'll miss her very much.

Here she is at age 15.

Jewelry

I recently completed a project that had been sitting unfinished for some time. I created this piece as a wax carving for a class. For mother's day, I had it cast in silver.

These other pieces are from my stint at FIT a couple of years ago. I completed this piece for the piercing and sawing class. We had to create a symmetrical pattern containing 100 cuts within a 2" x 2" brass square. It now hangs in my home office.

I made this bracelet for my mother, then made similar pieces for myself and a friend. It was an independent project born of leftover wire and tubing. The texture is created by running the silver through a rolling press sandwiched next to torn up pieces of sandpaper.

The assignment for this necklace was that it had to be pierced, contain a stone in a bezel setting, and have wire soldered onto flat sheet.

This last piece is the oldest - from when I spent a semester in Florence in 1995. Also an independent project, it was inspired by the stone itself: a combination of malachite and azurite. The pearl moon rotates freely around the center stone.

Registered Professional Nurse

It's official: I received my nursing license and registration in the mail on Friday. Now the hard part starts . . .

A couple of weeks ago I found out I passed the nursing boards about an hour after my job offer came in. I accepted a staff nurse position at NewYork-Presbyterian Weill Cornell Medical Center in Maternity. It is a float position, covering antepartum, labor & delivery, postpartum, nursery, and triage. The only area I won't be expected to cover is the operating room. It will be a little crazy as I orient to all the departments, but wonderful experience. It is also a night position, from 7:00 pm to 7:30 am, for 13 shifts a month (mostly 3 days a week).

This past Thursday, I signed a lease on a new apartment. I'm moving on up to the upper upper upper East Side. East Harlem (El Barrio), that is.


I got a rent-stabilized, two bedroom apartment on the third floor of a walkup on the corner of East 116th and Pleasant Avenue, just a block from the East River. The kitchen is a little quirky, with the kitchen sink off in a corner. Closet space is not in abundance, either. The bigger 'catch' is that there is no view - all the windows look out on other walls and windows. Nevertheless, there are lovely hardwood floors. Plus, being up nights means that I wouldn't get to enjoy a view much anyhow. Being on the interior of the building means it is also quieter.

My new lease starts November 1st but the old one doesn't run out until the 14th, so I get to stretch the moving craziness out over two weeks, if I need to. I have scrub the new place, pack, move, and then scrub the old place. Oy.

In spite of all that, I took the weekend to tag along with Daddy to Connecticut to see Benjamin. We saw a great sunset at the beach in Groton, across the Thames from New London. It rained most of the day Saturday, but we had a great weekend.




And now for something completely different . . .
The other day I got some spam that slipped past the email filter that contained a bizarre and hilarious hodge-podge of mostly grammatically correct words. It started "Any fundraiser can find lice on another green industrial complex, but it takes a real bottle of beer to sanitize a briar patch toward a CEO." When I shared it with Mary Ellen, she pointed me to a truly extraordinary example of the genre.

Cheers!

BSN

The second most expensive piece of paper I own.

Fight city hall!

I'm catching up on some back issues of The Atlantic that piled up while I was in school. This quote in the May issue was originally printed in the magazine in 1973 in an essay entitled "The Force That Drives the Flower" by Annie Dillard. It made me laugh.

When I read how many thousands of dollars a city like New York has to spend to keep underground water pipes free of ailanthus, ginko, and sycamore roots, I cannot help but give a little cheer. After all, water pipes are almost always an excellent source of water. In a town where resourcefulness and beating the system are highly prized, these primitive trees can fight city hall and win.

OK Go

This video clip has the most inventive choreography I've seen all day, at the very least. I can't think of anyone else who's out there exploring the choregraphic potential of the treadmill. These guys are a band called OK Go and they actually do play instruments and sing, just not in this video. They performed this same routine at the VMAs the other day. Go to youtube.com and search for their name to see their complete oeuvre.

Graduation

My official graduation date was September 1, but back on the 22nd, we held a ceremony to mark the occasion. We get our certificates towards the end of this month. Roughly 2/3 of the graduating class made it into this picture.



I made a speech about the importance of planning how you will use your professional influence over the course of your career. The seriousness of my point really comes across in the picture, no?


My colleagues, Daniella and Tamika also represented our class with aplomb.


Dr. Marilyn Jaffe-Ruiz was our faculty speaker. She was an invaluable adviser and cheerleader for me this past year.


We also received the benefit of some words of wisdom from Karen Ballard, nurse consultant extraordinaire.


The best treat of the day was the presence of my family, all the way from Miami Beach. Mom did the honors in the traditional nurse's pinning ceremony.


Here's the proud papa.



And my most excellent bro, Benjamin.


That night I enjoyed the company of my dear friends who couldn't make it to the ceremony: Emily (l), Mary Ellen (r) . . .


. . . and my buddy Ruth.


As always, the folks at Artepasta served up a great dinner, attentive service, and a tiramisu that will bring tears to your eyes. Seriously, don't miss it.




The next day, my folks and I checked out the exhibits at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum. (shhh. . . Daddy doesn't know he's the shortest one).


That amazing awning deserves a closer look.


On the 24th, Daddy, Benjamin, and I drove up to New London, CT to get our college man all moved in.


My brother and I went for a visit in April '05, and as you can see Connecticut College has a lovely campus. That's Long Island Sound on the horizon.


They even have their own Winged Victory!


The school has a well-appointed bookstore, and the official mascot is the camel (striking abject fear in the hearts of all athletic opponents, no doubt).



Naturally, the stereo is the most vital, and therefore first, item unpacked.


Posters are also a high priority.


Home for the next year . . .

Of course, there are far more photos than you see here. To see the entire collection, click here.

Parade

I live across the street from a big Catholic church. Several times a year, I hear a small marching band coming down my street, usually playing "When the Saints Go Marching In." These parades are usually of the blink-and-you-miss-it variety. One came by a few weeks ago and I managed to scoop up my camera fast enough to get a shot of the float on its way to the church.

{Proud}

Benjamin & Daddy at B's graduation

PSA: Ovarian Cancer

Some facts provided by SHARE about ovarian cancer in a handy-dandy wallet card:

• All women are at risk
• Ovarian cancer occurs in about 1 out of 55 women
• Symptoms can be vague, but do exist
• Early detection increases survival rates
• A PAP smear does not detect ovarian cancer

Symptoms:

• Abdominal pressure, bloating, or discomfort
• Nausea, indigestion, gas, constipation, or diarrhea
• Urinary frequency or urgency
• Abnormal bleeding
• Unusual fatigue
• Unexplained weight loss or gain
• Shortness of breath

If these symptoms persist and/or recur, seek the advice of a gynecologic oncologist. Experts recommend a pelvic/rectal exam, a transvaginal sonogram, and a CA 125 blood test.

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