Alison's Babble-log

Off to Buenos Aires tomorrow

2011-03-16T13:18:00.005-04:00

Tomrrow will be a 'flying' holiday for me. I will be heading out to Buenos Aires, Argentina with Carlos Fontes, who has a Fulbright appointment at the Catholic University there.

My general plan is to connect with my daughter Mariel, relax, heal, learn and dance more Tango, and learn and speak more Spanish. (Trying to work the aging body and brain!). Mariel is a UMass Junior in Commonwealth College and College of Natural Sciences, on the Deans List, and on an API semester abroad program there until June 25th, her 21st birthday!

This is the first time in MANY, many years that I will be away from a home base for more than a month. I am grateful to have wonderful people in and around my home to care for it and enjoy the springtime here, while we head into fall down there.

The basic plan:
Friday: Arrive in Buenos Aires and meet up with my daughter Mariel and do the business of settling in. If we are not too exhausted, Mariel has already invited us to attend a tango event that evening at the Confiteria Ideal, a vintage ballroom.

Saturday, sleep in, and perhaps join my daughter at a monthly Lindy Hop Swing dance event. This is an American dance that has grown in popularity around the world. There is a large community of mostly young dancers in Argentina. I introduced my daughter to this dance when she was 13 and she has shot up to become one of the most advanced and creative dancers on the scene and is able to find community many places world-wide. She has demonstrated and taught vintage social dance moves to the Amherst and UMass community. I have not quite retired to the sidelines, and will get up to boogie and Charleston when the 'spirit moves', albeit usually to the slower, more bluesy music.

A Bollywood Festival Sunday? Apparently there is a large Indian population in BA.

We leave for Patagonia on Tuesday, which is in the Southern part of Argentina. It is windy and wintry there, and we hope to climb glaciers, take in mountain vistas (parts of the Andes), encounter lots of wildlife, perhaps penguins, and visit Tierra del Fuego - the End of the World ( as close as you can get to Antarctica). We also plan to explore the Lake district of Bariloche which is considered to be like Switzerland (It has lots of Germans and European influences).

Patagonia is also known for lamb, beef, beer, and chocolate!

I have long been curious about this part of the world since buying my first Patagonia fleece, although with all the ice and 'roof glaciers we had this winter, you might wonder why we head for more and not someplace tropical :). That will come later.

Between April and May, I will study and explore around Buenos Aires and take mini trips to places like Colonia, Uruguay, Tigre (a delta north of BA), and some ranches - 'Estancias'.

In May we plan to go see Iguazu Falls on the border of Brazil and Paraguay. This spectacular network of 275 falls is depicted in the film 'The Mission, and you can see some images here.

Bottlecaps and Skully

2011-03-09T21:55:00.005-05:00

Alongside comics we collected bottle caps. These were carefully, no expertly, pried from the tops of glass soda-pop bottles that we mainly got from vending machines. A bottle cost from a dime to 15 cents in the late 50s to 60s. My father remembered the price was a nickel during the second quarter of the century. We saved our nickels and dimes, both for the purpose of buying soda and for collecting the prized caps. And yes, for ice cream too, bought from the local vendors who came around to the playgrounds in their trucks, Bungalow Bar, Uncle Johns, Mr. Softy and Good Humor, each with their distinctive song or bell to alert us.

The vending machines did not come to us. We sought them out in building basements, candy stores, boat houses, and other places of liesure. Some times the sodas came in packs bought from the local grocery store. Pepsi, Canada Dry Gingerale, and Coke were the most popular. One of my favorite soft drinks was Root beer, so I had quite a few of those.I can't clearly recall the brand as there were several like Frosties, Hires, Draft. There were also Orange and Grape sodas and caps.

These were to be used competively in the game of ‘Skully’, a city street game, played on the concrete pavements of playgrounds where game boards were often chalked temporarily onto the surface in an open area between slides and swings. There was one painted permanently over by the sandbox in our 'Big' Playground.

The 'board' was square, about 3 feet by 3 feet, with 13 smaller square areas marked by numbers spaced around it. Four in the corners, two paired together in the middle of each side and with the number 13 in the center.

Starting at box 1, you 'shot' your cap with the flick of your thumb and index or middle finger, aiming to land within the numbered boxes.

If you landed on the lines you could later just tap your cap in. If you were unlucky you got knocked off course, sometimes way a-ways, by other players. If you landed in the box you got to go again and try for the next number.

The number 13 was surrounded by 4 areas of 'space' . This was 'No-man's Land'. Depending on the rules of the day, if you landed there you either were 'out' , stuck until another player knocked you out, or penalized and had to start over again from 1. Once you made it to 13, you worked your way backwards to 1, and then could move around the 'No Man's Land' in clockwise fashion to become a 'Killer'.The sooner the better.

Once you were a Killer you went after the others to knock them out of the game. It was then that all hell broke loose as players would scatter wide around the playground to escape the aim of a Killer. Tap 3 times and they were out. Besides hitting other caps, sometimes one would bounce off and hit other players.

The game was most fun with 3 or more players, with 6 being a good number to manage. Sometimes we played in teams where part of of the strategy included protecting teammates' caps or going on offense against the others to knock them far off course.. Skill seemed not to depend much on gender. It was more an eye/hand coordination thing, although the aggressive nature of a 'Killer' might have been associated with sex-type or age.

Sometimes we were lucky to have an indoor site, with more slick wooden floors and painted skully boards. Play , rain or shine.

No bloody scrapes from grazing one's fingers against the gravel.

The best caps were 'Smoothies'. These prized possesions were smooth on the top, which became the bottom when turned over and used in play. Hence, the need of 'expert' skill required to obtain these. If the cap was too tight, or stuck on a bottle, it invariably came off bent. Bent ones wobbled along the ground of game courts and were harder to aim straight and shoot. The ones that had padding in them, mostly cork, were heavier and valued for their steadier and more stable trajectories. To enhance our caps we could melt crayon into them to provide both weight and identifying colors. Although you only needed a few for a game, we collected and stored our stashes in shoeboxes wrapped tight with rubber bands. We also would trade, trying to up our count of Smoothies, or balance our brands.

I remember having boxes of 50-100 or more, spending summer-time counting, organizing, and ordering caps by preference, and comparing them to those of my friends. The clinging sound of a box of caps is certainly nostalgic to groups of city kids of the 50 's and 60's generations.

Skully days ended when we went on to middle and high school. Although I read on the internet that the game continued 'round the city well into the 70s. As we aged, we moved off of our knees, and some of us, out of the playground, except for those who played basketball, paddle ball, or did drugs. The girls often landed up on the sidelines, on the benches, watching and rooting for games, smoking, flirting, and learning more adult and somtimes dangerous play.

Le Temps

2011-02-17T14:04:00.002-05:00

Le Temps
(1974)

Il ya des moments

quand on est seul
quand le vie est vide de sens
quand on souffre
quand tout semble absurd

et quand on revolte

quand on cherche la liberte.....pour se realiser
quand on agit.....et fait decisions
quand on change.....et cree des novuvelles chose
quand on construit.....une vie d'importance
quand on retrouve des raisons.....pour continuer a vivre

le temps est ici

je pense, je parle, j'ecris

Poem Summer 1980

2011-02-12T19:24:00.005-05:00

Rich, the Sun -
Orange Reminder of
Your Vibrant
Colored Hair

Feeling Fine and
Warm in
Much-used
(Sleazy)
Midtown
Park...

Some Black Jazzers at
One End
Provide
Live Rhythms for
My Thoughts...

Music Keeps
My Soul
Blood
Moving
and Lets
My Mind
Flow

Unstuck.

Penny Pitching

2010-11-26T00:41:00.005-05:00

Check out my short story on my son's comic collections website:

"Penny Pitching for Comics"

Lar Lubovitch and Dance reminiscence

2010-11-12T13:35:00.017-05:00

(photo by Jack Mitchell)

Lar Lubovitch came to UMASS Fine Arts Center on November 2nd. He has always been one of my favorite choreographers, spanning ballet and modern dance. Dance teacher Jim Coleman called him a 'dancers choreographer' - it just feels so good to embody much of his movement.

I encouraged the FAC to bring this often unknown-to-the-general-public 'legend' to UMASS.

Here was my review:

Having studied with Lar over 30 years ago, I was excited to see him and the company once more. Lar has been one of the most versatile choreographers of his generation. The revival of classics North Star and Marimba was a wonderful choice, especially for me. I could recall the movements and viscerally re-experience these pieces (parts of which I had learned) along with the dancers. The music, essence, and flow of the dance did recall an era, but also created a mesmerizing mood for a contemporary audience. The duet was beautifully danced- sweet. However, while the Coltrane piece, ‘My Favorite Things’ was fascinating for it’s reference to the historical development of American theatrical jazz dance – smooth lyrical jazz, with amusing movement ‘quotations’ from legendary choreographers and teachers like Jack Cole and Luigi, it did not capture the raw and energetic essence of Coltrane’s musicians. Lar said this piece was tightly constructed musically, and he wished to capture and convey the structure as well as the beat era spirit, yet it would have been wonderful, and perhaps had more impact, to have the dancers break loose either in improvisational sections or within the choreography with more of an earthy Afro-American and vernacular jazz vocabulary and ‘attitude’. The piece, except for one duet, came aross as cute and tame, rather than ‘hot’ and kick-ass powerful and complex like Coltrane. Having seen other works of Lar, I know he can capture and convey power and energy. Lar said he chose these pieces for continuity, and some of the audience enjoyed the consistency and were carried along with the flow from start to finish. Yet Lar’s range of repertoire includes many dramatic and varied pieces. I wished he had included some for a change of perspective and style. I think the FAC audience would welcome this company back with a more varied program of works; different stylistic focus, dramatic themes, costuming, and energy. All in all, thank you FAC for reaching out to bring us great dance, and please continue to do so!

Here are also links on dance (Lar and history) that might be of interest: Feel free to share:

Great overview and timeline of Jazz Dance Development and personalities:

My daughter Mariel and I move within the framework of Lindy with heritage from George Snowdon and Whiteys' Lindy Hoppers to contemporary dance. I studied with Luigi teachers, Matt Mattox, Lynn Simonson, and at the Ailey school- with Nat Horne, Pepsi Bethel, and (they don't mention Thelma Hill) I worked briefly with Bill T Jones, and other modern 'fusionists' like Jennifer Muller and Louis Falco,and was influenced by Twyla. I studied with students/dancers of others like Jo Jo Smith, Phil Black, Gus Giordano, Donny McKayle and took in their styles in various choreogaphy. We have all watched and absorbed Gene Kelly and Astaire into our movement memories.

Mari studied with former members of Twyla Tharp, and Daniel Nagrin

Some other links of interest- Biography:

A conversation with Peggy Baker (My contemporary) talking very clearly and full of knowledge of Lar's work: <

I loved Lar's works Whirligogs and Time Before the Time After, Les Noces, Girl on Fire , and the Day of Dead piece set on the Limon Company.
(photo by Rosalie O'Connor)

Life's Commandments?

2010-02-04T14:49:00.011-05:00

Hey- this was dated Feb 2010. A long post- HANG IN

Well,
It has been a tough few weeks. Tougher for my mother, almost 90, who has been in and out of the emergency room and hospital for the past 3 weeks. Tough for my father who is the same age and who in spite of their incessant 'arguing' and disagreements about large and minor things, loves and wants to care for her. Tough for my sister who has stayed in the Bronx with them to manage and oversee their care and coordinate with doctors, look into home care and rehab, keep my father steady, keep the family networked and everyone informed, and play interference at times. She has also had to try to support her husband who is playing single parent to a 12 year old and autistic 19 year old back in California,while managing a job that requires his leadership, and a home. It has been good that she loves to talk on the phone, as she did as a child, mimicking my mother's authoritative voice. Tough for me too, to feel on the outside of the loop, being concerned and trying to focus on work and my home while wanting to be there, yet also dealing with my own illnesses, the ugly head of depression and anxiety having risen up again and more intensively these past months. Confusion and frustration over my present and uncertainty as to what kind of future commitments to make have thrown me into a tizzy, yet must be tabled right now. I have to ease off on my seriousness around finding/creating meaning and purpose in midlife, the desire to establish a more powerful and satisfying 'career' and work direction, and focus on basics - eating, self care, a bit of rest, a bit of friendship and companionship, a bit of dancing-tango and facing some fears and patterns of the past.

And then there is Haiti too....earthquakes and devastation on a grand but distant scale. Phew-

That said- as the Life Commandments email comes through from my friend:

"This email is from my friend's sister. Little did she know that she would be burying Ashley, her 21-year old daughter, in a few days, as the result of an automobile accident on 10/22/09. Bill is on his way to Philly to be with his sister. It's only been a couple of years since her husband died unexpectedly. If you think you shouldn't live life to its fullest EVERY SINGLE DAY, remember this and every other tragedy like it."

Barry

It sounded like one of those millions of email blasts about someones fate and distress meant to prod (or guilt) us into feeling good!

The challenge is every day seems to be filled with stuff that makes it difficult to feel like one is living fully - and of course, much of it is in our minds, both thoughts and the biochemical nature of them.

That said: Here goes: This was sent and I have added my comments:
Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain Dealer,Cleveland, Ohio

NOTE-actually Regina is 53 or so. Midlife

To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written.

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

Mostly....Some of this is perspective, and some is perception/experience. When I am vomiting and in pain, it feels neither fair nor good for instance! I am sure when my mom was experiencing 2 kidney stones stuck at the urethra, a urinary tract infection, and painful swelling and infections in her legs, she also could not access much of the 'good' . But boy did she try and we tried to help distract her

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

This has been advice my mother (and others) have given often. It does seem to work as a good direction. Sometimes we need assistance to take that very small step, like a baby. I recall the home movies of me taking my first steps. A few fingers can help. As we get older we may need to ask for that help, or remember that early determination to get up and try again.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

Yes, Yes, Yes.. Yet is is human to get angry at those who may thwart us, or even worse - do us deliberate harm. It is probably true that it is best not to be consumed or focused on the hate. Better to use the anger towards some positive action. And yes loving IS so much better, but if a person is bent on doing one harm, best avoid that person, stop him or her, and find someone else to share love with

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.

Well yes. We KNOW this to be usually true, I certainly experienced this. Unless we have very disfunctional and heartless families, or have chosen badly in terms of friends, or find ourselves isolated and far, or we are very fortunate to work with some very compassionate people and organizations. (And this was not my experience in my office for quite a while as some knew. Developing and maintaining a positive network is important, and requires energy and time. Sometimes it is so sad that our ties are stretched over such long distances. It takes a community....... And sometimes we must call on faith (that GOD or higher power or spirit thing within and without) to help sustain us through intense pain or strife. For some of us that trust and faith is hard to access

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

Yeh- of course. It is what I tell my kids. A good idea. Who needs to build more interest and debt? That is good mainly for the companies that get rich off of it. Best to live within means, barter, trade, not buy? Yet our consumer and capitalist society tells us otherwise, and we see debt rampant around the world and used to keep the corporate control and benefit the few real wealthy and powerful. Yet here is where moderation and friends and family can help, as well as skills, creativity, and a good job and economy. But in the face of a declining one...well there maybe little choice

6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

A yes, and a challenge for many of us to remember and honor! When to persist and when to back off can be a tricky process. In my family, more backing off, or slowing down, listening, accepting would probably be good- no? Perhaps this crisis of my parent's health and aging is calling all of us to work on and grow more skilled here. If we put maintaining love and good feelings first-over achievement or objectives, that could help. Working on it, letting my sister take charge. Saying one's piece and letting go

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

Well, for women,this is more often true. Men may prefer solo at times. 'Go cry it on a mountain' can also be good advice and a cathartic experience. Tears can cleanse. Hey, there are studies about this! I myself often feel the safety of letting go in someone's strong embrace.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

Oh- maybe 'SHE'? Yeah and it is probably safer, unless HE/SHE throws down lightning bolts! Then again, GOD may seem silent and at the moment unable to provide a good distraction, except maybe lightning bolts. Mother Nature may do a good job with a spectacular sunset or squirrels chasing tails round a tree.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

Great Idea, if one can make rent, food and then some. Saving some for rainy days -- car breakdowns, vacations and 'retirement' can't be bad. Can it? Yet there is also the saying "You can't take it with you" Balance . Yet for my kids, Ian?, I'd say - save SOME- always. Interest compounds. Alhtough the market confounds and certainly now has deflated!

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

Who would want to resist? Dark chocolate is good for one's health.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

And how many years might that take. Counselors, pastors, and analysts can stay busy and employed. One probably already has screwed up plenty- I know. But yes, yes, make peace. And may my daughter make a living if she becomes a psychotherapist!

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

Too late on that one. They have seen it aplenty. Yet how much? Good for them to see one happy and loving too.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all
about.

Yes, not good to compare to feel worse, yet maybe good to know so we can learn from each other? Be close to each other? Why don't we know the journeys of those who are close? Because mostly we don't share the nitty gritty- just the bullet or bragging points. We read the best sellers and books of other lives or fantasy/fictional lives, and rarely find fascination with those right around us, because either we don't ask, they don't tell, we don't make or have the time, or they don't tell a good story.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

Ah- but it can be so exciting. And sometimes the society around one just can't handle it. Remember inter-racial relationships, gay lovers, an older woman and younger man, were taboo and those engaged were treated badly. Oh yes better to be able to proclaim without shame. Of course.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

You sure? Things are constantly changing and we certainky do blink and can be blind to the changes around us. When we sleep the world shifts and perhaps dissappears for a while. What changes must each of us stay aware of, go with, direct? climate change? A wave of neo-fascism?

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

Om. Alternate nostril breathing. Yoga nidra, meditation. More on this later. Meds calm the mind too, touch, exercise, and sometimes a stiff drink.

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

Ourselves as we age, when we are sick? Yes, yes. I have been bogged down in trying to get rid of stuff not needed.What about people that are not joyful, depressed? Do we dump them or work to help them? Find the beuaty in it? Transformation.

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

Yeah? maybe so, maybe it leaves one very depleted, and maybe it is only temporarily that one feels stronger, or remains alive. It might also make some folks bitter and ready for revenge. Healing and recovery can bring out and reveal strengths one did not have before.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

OR Alzheimers!?

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

Yeah, and what if that NO comes with a shove and a black eye? Ok, we know what this is supposed to mean. My cousin tells a romantic story about how he asked his future wife to break a date for him. Glad she did all those years later.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets and wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

Especially if we are dancing tango and someone get's to see the lingerie or lie in the sheets. OH, remember not to let the candle flames catch on the pillows or the sheets or burn the night table! Maintain some presence of mind.

22. Over prepare and then go with the flow.

Great advice for teaching Yoga, traveling, or anything. Only my boyfriend doesn't sometimes like to prepare or plan. Then I find it challenging to go with the flow. The flow becomes planning and preparing and eats up the present. Sometimes my present is just so full of things to deal with it is hard for me to make time to plan or follow through. I know you all have been here.

ANYWAY - HALF WAY THROUGH- HANG IN

Do we dare continue?

23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

Is wearing purple eccentric? In the 70's There was a couple who used to roam aroung NYC, always in purple. They were known as the 'Purple People' and tended organic city gardens. They mostly rode bikes or walked. Out of the hippie generation. Early environmentalists? They were NOT 'Purple People Eaters'. What about fuchsia?

24 No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

Why is my boyfriend always trying to make me happy? I told him it was not his job. And that said a big hug, a massage, an amazingly connected, masterfully executed dance, a dinner out, an astounding piece of music, a startling sunset or spectacular view, good health, npo pain, a lot of sleep (and money?) can certainly help. My father used to joke, "Rich or Poor it is good to have money". And of course we knwo "Money can't buy happiness' but it doesn't hurt either. It certainly can buy favors and health care. OH yes, we can sit in bliss, meditating on a mountain top, and live in denial or determination to be happy in spite of horrific conditions in a concentration camp. Sometimes the spirit is broken.

25 Frame every so-called disaster with these words ''In five years, will this matter?".

How many years has it been since Katrina? 911? And are we talking about the news stations or media's latest focus, or real lives of real people effected by some major disastrous events. Oh yes, my fingernail being bashed is NOT a disaster. True. Nor the scratch on the pimple on my daughter's face. Yes, a good question to ask oneself. In fact in 1 million years will much of this matter? Will we EXIST? So now what?

26. Always choose life.

And Why? and what if I don't get a choice? There is the corollary. Accept Death. And of course Accept Life. What about choosing life and quality of life for self or others?

27. Forgive everyone everything.

Really? Hitler? Stalin? Osama bin Laden? Sadam Huseein? George Bush? Well certainly there are things we can't changee- so acceptance is key, and understanding could lead to forgiveness. But should one forget? Excuse? Stay silent or speak up? Is one supposed to forgive an ex for focusing on his own desires, sexual and power needs, when the mother of his children was in the hospital after a breakdown? While she was having severe reactions to medication that she was trying to withstand for weeks and months without much support or care, experiencing major side effects and pure exhaustion, her ex-husband chose to take off anyway to meet a new woman (sight unseen) to bring back into his bed and home, and left his children, upset and worried, in the care of the mother's friend.....

Of course, better to forgive, the children did, but really hard to do. And hard to forget while he continued to belittle and financially contributed less and less while attempting to alienate her from the children with the help of that woman. Ah yes, breathe and let go.

28. What other people think of you is none of your business.

No, but it certainly can effect one's business or status, or life. Especially if they have the power to determine one's well being, wheer you live, what you do for work, how you are compensated, and your life or death. Yes,could you tell that to the wives of Henry the 8th and have had them believe you or value that statement?

Tell that to a kid who is bullied incessantly. Best if he/she doesn't buy into the taunting, but what if the taunts lead to torture? What about the Jews on Kristallnacht. Let's not get too pat with these sayings. PULEASE.

29. Time heals almost everything.. Give time, time.

Almost is the key word here. Good to have perspective. Good that time is relative. And "Time marches on"---and we do too, to our graves? Good sometimes that our memory fades, especially of pain....

30. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

yes. And better if it is toward the good, no?

31. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

UH- sometimes my siblings and parents, and coworkers, and empoyers, and friends, and even my cat does. Worse when I do, of course. So make me laugh? Help me to see the humor? Walk, talk silly around me? I do love Robin Willliams.....

32. Believe in miracles.

Walking on water? War will end? We will have endless peace and prosperity for all. We will live in harmony. Why not? better to hope. Better than Dorothy "I do believe in Ghosts". Positively affirm and pray... and yet - do not expect.

If a person survives his/her cancer treatment- a miracle. If not? accept life- accept death. Ah yes, Annie sings "Tomorrow, Tomorrow". " and "With a little bit o' luck" There will be another musical.

33. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or
didn't do.

That is a good thing I suppose....But doesn't he/she, like Santa, know if I'be been naughty or nice? He/she loves naughty as well as nice? Hitler too. Must have. Let him rampage for a long long time. This is supposed to make us feel good and safe? What about the God that will destroy the 'evil doers'? It almost could seem like God doesn't care.....Anyway, nice to wrap onself in the feelings of love and light.

34. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

35. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

Although some might argue, it depends on how well one lived life, and how one valued or did not value it, or was valued? Hey my folks are heading toward 91. Let's ask them. I do think they would agree, as long as one is not in continuous pain.

36. Your children get only one childhood.

And it lasts forever relative to mine? Hey- me too, I just got one. And the men in my life too. Only how come they still think theirs are continuing? And shouldn't we keep growing, even when shrinking? When does childhood end- really? What are we supposed to do with that? Feel guilty if we messed it up with our one chance at parenting? What about re-incarnation?

37. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

Whom? to whom? How much? How often? once enough? Truly loved? my cat? Loved and did litle about it

?

38. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

And mice and bugs, and leaves right now (fall). Yeah- outside is great. So why am I on teh compputer reading and responding to allthese virtual messages!?

39. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

UH- maybe, maybe not. We might trade a few. Or quite a few. What's in YOUR bag?

40. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

Or maybe you do not have what you need (or think you need or want). But certainly envying won't help get more of what you need or want. Certainly seems like a human thing though and could prod one to action, or acceptance.

41. The best is yet to come.

I certainly hope so. How does one know? Pretend is good. Foregtting the past might help. Yet if this is the case, how come so many older folk reminisce? Best---best of waht? Pretty broad arena. Best of depends (Depends??? those diaper thingies?)

42. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

Where we going? Hey- won't you come visit? Steve Post, from WBAI, used to talk of bed people. I once visited my Uncle Bernie. He was hanging at home in bed with several of his friends. They were mostly dressed, just under the covers. Staying cozy and warm and commiserating. I thought it wierd at that time, but fully understand now this retreat from his usually busy life, filled with many artificial people/friends/colleagues in the fashion world, always on the go. The man needed a rest. I just did not know how to connect. There was no room for me then. (They were all quite big, overweight) My Uncle Bernie, was called the 'Big O' for a reason. 'Ozer'- not what you think! My folks, especially my Mother, was usually 'Up and at 'em', the 'Rise and Shine' Lady. Exhausting. it was hard to find peace with her. And ironically some of the more memorable moments were when she lay down for a nap, listening to Opera, reading a book, a break from the show. One could then lie down and relax with her, head on her bosom. Breathe. Be present! show up. Not just dress up.

43. Yield.

Yes. Yield and find support. Support preceeds action. Yoga principles. and if you don't yield you might get hit by oncoming trafic, no?

44. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.

ok.

Number 45?

Turning - mid 50s BIrthday soon

2009-10-15T16:08:00.002-04:00

Approaching my birthday on October 17 and realizing that mid-50 I am still on a path to defining and redefinign myself. The past year has been rocky one filled with hopes, anxieties, uncertainties, paralleling what many are experiencing with the uncertain economy, changing political scenario and up and down markets. My daughter transitioned to college, only not quite, as we were held in the dark as to her father's financial commitment to her continuing education, and I became more unwilling, and perhaps unable, to support her alone or support her to continue at the first college of her choice, with substantial debt.

Thinking this 'empty nest' time was the time to redirect self, revisit atualizing dreams, write? , I found myself still dealing with ongoing family and work issues that were unresolved. On top of it, the uncertain, or unclear commitment of my daughter to a direction heightened my own. Of course at 18/19 - this uncertainty is not unusual. At 55? Well perhaps not so unusual again as many women are seeming to take new turns in their work, family, and living situations. Some have been forced to.

But back to the intitial reason for the post- I was provoked by this question posed by Kathy Caprino of Ellia Communications in her blog post "Being Real in Times of Turmoil" What do you do each day to “keep the faith” and keep it real in your life and work?

This is a good question to ask oneself, and in doing that one comes back to basics I suppose. We can discover what is most important for ourselves. I find often I must come back to something concrete and simple to take care and renew myself.

This is what I wrote: I look for backup and perspective from friends and wise sources. A movie, a book. Regroup. For me that may involve movement, meditation, and touch - a walk to notice the sky and nature, and sleep. Bottomline a mixture of connection, conversation, and self-nurturance. Being able to help another almost always helps oneself. Remembering that work is only that- not all of oneself, is very important. Open oneself to guidance and cultivate acceptance - no real magic.

Reflecting on- there is some magic in it when it works. There are times, seeking that, that I have failed to feel renewed, where the body/mind was so depleted and the stress so persistent. Yet allowing for guidance and persisting in being open to be healed is very powerful. And opening, asking for help, can allow almost anyone, anything to give. And then at times the giving of one's gifts, whatever they might be may be essential, whether recognized or not.

It is interesting that I am reminded of this after having offered a massage/shiatsu/rehabilitative ssssion to a masssage therapist friend/mother. She needed the attention and skilled sensitive touch I have been blessed with, and feel a need to develop, explore, and offer more of. And in the exchange I too was supported and guided in trusting myself, spurred on to have and experience 'faith' in myself, in the moment and the possibilities of 'more' in the future.

And here I am writing again after quite a lull. TB cont'd....

Love: a Matter of Chemistry?

2009-08-25T16:05:00.005-04:00

Well . Just read this header and article in AARP magazine. Now really, is this news? Of course there is chemistry involved, But what is interesting and a bit scary is the question asked within, and idea posed, of developing a drug that would cause attachment and bonding feelings to make people have the impulse and desire to move closer to each other". I think of Puck in Midsummer Night's Dream mistakenly applying the elixir to mismatched couples, forcing the romantic attachment of the fairy queen Tatiana to Bottom - the fool, the donkey.

What dangers do we invite by meddling further with nature? Already anti-perspirants maske our natural smells and pheromones which can aid in attraction. These chemicals also help us unconsicously stay away from genetic pools that are too similar to our own. Masking smell could lead us to romantic or sexual partnering with a person whose gene pool would not be best to mate with. And now we add oxytocin or other chemicals in pill form that may overide nature's long developed wisdom? Yes,to encourage bonding can be good, very good, especially for fathers and mothers to their babies and children and each other.

Yet touch has been proven to be effective in encouraging that. Check out the research that has been done, and Ashley Montague's book on Touching. We certainly can use more consensual, skilled, loving touch in this world.

We need to teach people to be mindful of the choices they make for romantic and sexual partner. Teach folks to tune into and respect their senses, but also to use their intuition and mind to interpret the appropriateness, and safety, of pairing up. We don't need to overide the power of body/mind, by use of synthetic aids.
We also do indeed need to look at what 'love' is and encourage the development of love in a broader sense than just attraction.

Boy- what a mickey it would be if some 'bad boy' slipped one into an unwitting woman's drink and then what more devastation would ensue than already does by having the heartless one leave. And in fact, what if the scene was twisted the other way and some woman tried to ensnare her potential lover into attachment? Would she indeed need to keep him bewitched with drugs, the modern embodiment of a wicked witch? Buyer beware.

Tango moment captured

2009-07-08T18:45:00.005-04:00

Well, finally it happened. Adora captured a fun neuvo-tango moment of mine. Follow this link to Facebook.

We were at a tango-pulse milonga in the Lenox area. Adora and Carey, are the young gals singing, love this. Somehow Adora captured some dancing too. Ogion (29) and I always seem to connect to the livelier atypical nuevo-tango tunes. A bit bouncy and loose, but fun. I obviously had caught a heel in my stocking which resulted in a small tear, but who cares. I love this dress. Jackie and Victor dancing quite a bit smoother and elegant. She is more steady in heels. Not bad for 55 year old ladies, eh?

a fine time

Recent tango photos - March Hair

2009-04-28T15:43:00.002-04:00

The passing of a Legend - Frankie Manning April 27, 2009

2009-04-28T10:29:00.014-04:00

My daughter Mari just called with the news about the death of Frankie Manning, almost 95. I was just about to call her! There was some connection wanting to happen.

While so sad and moved ( I burst out in tears), we both realized that although we will miss Frankie, we felt blessed to have danced, taught, and shared stories with him, along with being inspired and spreading the joy of this dance with him.

Mariel wondered what Frankie might have wished to say that he could not in his last moments, but then we also realized that Frankie had already said what he needed to, contributed what he needed to, and his legacy will live on. What an amazing thing, what an amazing man.

I shared more here on this blog where stories and photos are being collected describing Frankie's effect on our lives.

And here is some information, photos, videos from the assembly we hosted with Frankie at Amherst Regional High in May 2006.

We will miss you Frankie!

PS. Those interested to know more can just Google or go to the Yehoodi site that unites siwng dancers from around the world. News and memories are being gathered there.

I Was a Little Chicken?

2009-04-01T14:06:00.004-04:00

From the book Letters to Fathers from Daughters

Background on the book and piece is here

Dear Dad,

I was a little chicken. Confused. That was the image you got after the doctor rushed out of the elevator, held out his fist, and said, “That's how big she is.”

You were thrilled to have either a boy or girl after a long awaited birth. Since I was premature, you were most worried about whether I was healthy.

Finally you asked the doctor, "But how is she?" And he said, “She’s fine, but very tiny.” You ran to peek through the window of the nursery where they had placed me, all 4 pounds 9 ounces, bundled in a ‘warmer’.

My first memory is of you staring down at me from behind a window that seemed quite high up on my left. Your face is contorted with concern. I cannot move, cannot reach out to comfort you, nor comfort myself. I am distressed, and the distress is amplified by the sound of other babies crying while a nurse walks by, unaware of the significance of this moment and of the distance I perceive.

You told the story many times of the stupid doctor who had no sensitivity to understand your primal need to know that your child was healthy. And many times I recalled this memory.

Throughout my life, when you were worried for my welfare, this frustration, anger—perhaps disappointment—would get mixed in with your anxiety. It was conveyed to me, and I viscerally felt your fear. And it unsettled me, as well as you.

You felt I was fighting against you, rejecting you when, as I got older, I fought back against the fear. I tried to protect myself from the negativity of your emotions and assert myself with hope and optimism. I was only pushing against the limitations you set for me. I felt—intensely—the restrictions on my movement and growth, and tried to release myself from your protective bind.

In many ways, you gave support and encouragement as I grew. You threw me balls, guided me on my bike, and joined me in 3-legged races. You watched each and every dance concert I performed in, proud and admiring my agility. You drove me to and from classes in New York, and supported my studies one summer in France, and then in Canada.

Yet you worried—and at times, when I felt I was ready to fly, I also felt you held me back. You would not allow me to take a year off after high school to pursue my dream of being a professional ballerina, but flew me off to a school in Indiana, far from the streets of NY.

What was in your mind and heart? Was it just an automatic resurgence of that first fear for my safety? More than once, I experienced what I perceived were attempts to control me, even as a young adult. In the late 70s, at age 25, when I informed you I was going to San Francisco, you reacted with rage and disbelief as if I was Columbus setting sail for the edge of the earth. I was scared I’d provoke a heart-attack. My body and voice strained against your maneuvers, as they did in that baby warmer.

I wished to reach you, reach through to you, and assure you I’d be ok—I was ok. I wanted you to encourage my separation, so I could develop and reach out to touch you with a strong sense of myself. I wanted you to see and move through your fear to allow my growth. I wanted. . . What did you want? Will I ever truly understand your motivation? Perhaps not.

And so, I reconstruct my first memory. I see you relaxed, happy, and smiling, excited for this healthy newborn, so rosy and robust, even if tiny. The chorus of cries does not overwhelm the emotion of joy that radiates between us, the warmth that penetrates and melts the glass. I imagine your hand reaching out to mine and my little fingers able to unfurl and grasp yours. I give a squeeze and after letting go, we know I am full of strength. And both reassured, we are able to move on.

Your Daughter,
Alison

“To live fully is to let go and die with each passing moment, and to be reborn in each new one.”
Jack Kornfield

Dance as union of the elements

2009-01-22T22:13:00.000-05:00

“With the creation of the universe, the dance too came into being, which signifies the union of the elements. The round dance of the stars, the constellation of planets in relation to the fixed stars, the beautiful order and harmony in all its movements, is a mirror of the original dance at the time of creation.”

Lucian of Samosata (~125 to 180 A.D.), On Dance (De Saltatione)

The Dance

2009-01-06T09:43:00.007-05:00

While cleaning out papers, a process that seems endless as I accrue more each day, I found the poem that follows.

The morn of New Year's eve brought a storm that would leave 6-8 inches and bring high winds later in the day. I had spent a great deal of the so-called winter 'vacation', leading up to the turn of the year, sick, reflecting on my life, and facing the 'woods of my own nature'. The snow was accumulating fast. Still not feeling well, I took the day off and continued to rest, reflect, sort, clean, and reorganize my life.

Anyway,I found this poem among information and coursework on massage. (another body of knowledge I had developed and then suspended my work in)

The Dance

When the snow falls the flakes
spin upon the long axis
that concerns them most intimately
two and two to make a dance

the mind dances with itself,
taking you be the hand,
your lover follows
there are always two,

your self and the other,
the point of your show setting the pace,
if you break away and run
the dance is over

Breathlessly you will take
another partner
better or worse who will keep
at your side, at your stops

whirls and glides until he too
leaves off
on his was down as if
there were another direction

gayer, more carefree
spinning face to face but always down
with each other secure
only in each other's arms

But only the dance is sure!
make it your own.
Who can tell
what is to come of it?

in the woods of your
own nature whatever
twig interposes, and bare twigs
have an actuality of their own

this flurry of the storm
that holds us,
plays with us and discards us
dancing, dancing as may be credible.

William Carlos Williams

The images and words that stand out to me:

Dancing two and two

Mind dancing with itself

There are always two?

My mind is often dancing by itself, and then I feel there is one-me, and everyone else - out there.

Secure only in each other's arms

Only the dance is sure

Breathlessly you will take
another partnerbetter or worse who will keep
at your side, at your stops

When dancing, especially tango, I can focus on the moment with intent. I can feel sure, immediate. Usually with any physical activity that engages the mind, and heart as well, there is more clarity, immediacy,and satisfaction. Sharing those moments with a partner is blissful, comforting and feels meaningful. Touching, breathing, moving together - there is the joy. And the awareness in the still points, 'the stops', of these shared pleasures, improvisational movement games, is exquisite.

When the mind is only dancing with itself there can be a split - confusion and loneliness seep in.

Dancing as may be credible

What does this mean?
Comments?

2008 Year End Reflections

2008-12-26T17:14:00.007-05:00

Best – light and blessings:
Happy Happy Joy Joy
News from Alison, Ian and Mariel
Prompted by the year end family summaries of several friends, I will attempt my first-time ever family newsletter. This one, admittedly, has not been reviewed, edited, or contributed to by my children. Hey kids, please pardon me.

Yes this holiday time is supposed to be a time of reflection and appreciation. (And of course being Jewish, I had some time for that during Rosh Hashanah- the Jewish New Year in September, along with repentance and asking for forgiveness.)

Yet there is room for more. So I will share some reflections and appreciations without the repentance piece… although I will happily accept any forgiveness for any distress I may have caused over the year, and let my sins be whitewashed away by new fallen snow.

OK
2009 began with an intense focus on performance and completion of college applications and financial aid forms for Mariel. There was the Amherst Regional High Cabaret, and rehearsals for the March musical AIDA, where Mariel played a leading role. There also were rehearsals for the March Amherst Ballet production at UMASS Bowker hall.

Mariel was featured in a modern piece, and got to put out her pizzazz and demonstrate her social dance skills in a Latin/salsa number. Mom got to finally realize a choreographic idea that was germinated about 30 years earlier - a modern dance piece based on the Five Element Theory. It evolved through collaboration with a musician, John Cooper, and her boyfriend Carlos who developed a video collage of relevant images as a prelude. I worked both from improvisation and set movement sequences with five talented young dancers from Amherst Ballet and the piece opened the spring repertoire performances.

Meanwhile Ian was hard at work at Savannah College of Art and Design doing photography and also expanding his knowledge and experience of art history, design, performance installations, and blogging.

He also continued to submit to various magazines and win recognition and awards such as

2008 - Adobe Design Achievement Awards, Digital Photography
2008 - Four Honorable Mentions, Fine Art Portrait Series, Px3 Awards, Paris
2008 - Myshot 08, 3rd Place Greeting Card, Honorable Mention Calendar Design
2008 - CMYK Magazine Contest 40
2008 - Finalist, Best of College Photography

In the summer he attended The Adobe Design Achievement Award Ceremony in NYC as one of 3 finalists, and also worked on some book project such as his Israel by Land- with photos taken from his Summer 2007 Birthright trip.

Besides that he established a home residence with Beth and other housemates in Savannah near Forsythe Park and entered his senior year at SCAD. Oh My. Ian also managed some more scholarship aid, and pledged to try to establish more work to pay for his ongoing projects. He continued to be active through the fall with blogging and following and commenting on the Presidential election. YEAH Obama- change and hope!?

Meanwhile Mariel made her decision to attend Ithaca College in the Exploratory Program with a strong focus and interest in Psychology and Media. She received a scholarship and some substantial grant and loan aid. Marie had hoped to enter Park School of Communications, and may yet, as in her final year at ARHS she was also active taking and assisting in video production classes, and demonstrated a talent for video/film direction and editing. She also produced a documentary of and for Amherst Ballet.

In the summer Mariel prepared for her big transition while Mom escaped for a bit to Guatemala and Belize with Carlos. Reflections on that experience and photos can be read/seen here.

The truth was, that after such a busy and intense year (years), Mom was ready for rest. (years of it?) And the ‘vacation’ wasn't really all that restful. With a bit of anxiety around the upcoming major transition on the home front, and with the trying to absorb and take in the cultural differences, the trip was bit challenging. Also returning to the reality and economic upheavals of the fall have left Mom, me, with many emotions and issues to deal with.

So while Ian and Mariel continue to forge on with their lives away from home, I am facing, like many of us, the empty nest, and also emptier pocket to deal with it all. And while opportunities should truly be opening to consider the new use of my time, somehow I have found it very full just with work, an ongoing relationship, home, car, and health issues, (and yes some worry).

Of course I have been grateful for the companionship and ability to work out at the gym some, do yoga, and even dance here and there and. have been looking forward to more time to Tango- and salsa. I have been grateful for the spiritual guidance from Carlos, friends, colleagues, classes, books, and films. The stories shared and told do provide solace and some wisdom to draw upon on dark days.

I am also grateful that my folks, Ruth and Abe, are still hanging in at 89, although enjoying a bit more limited range of movement, and are mostly centered around their apartment in the Bronx. And I was grateful to see my sister-Steph and nephew-Gabe there this fall, along with my Aunt and Uncle, when we visited in their home. Before that we were blessed with a visit from the whole family, along with Carlos’s, at Mariel’s graduation. (Even Ian and Beth surprised us by secretly showing up for this June event)

And now I have been blessed with a holiday - in time for Hanukkah, visit from Ian and Mariel. Mariel made it back from Ithaca to enjoy a Puerto Rican Paranda celebration at a friend’s house where electricity was finally restored after almost weeklong power outage from ice storms. And I was truly impressed that Ian managed to drive over 10 hours to Pittsburgh with Beth, then fly the next day via Detroit to Bradley airport, 6 or so more hours, and then have his dad Rich fortunately pick him up and drive through snow and ice back to Amherst (5-6 hours of his time too) to make it in time for a Hanukkah dinner on Sunday….and dental appointments this week! Phew. Mom has truly forgotten what it is like to have the time and energy and willingness to travel for that length of time to be with family (or make medical appointments).

Of course then he and Mariel proceeded to be super-tired, sick, and need lots of sleep. And now I too have succumbed to a cold. Ah well. Such is holiday season. I think Santa will bypass our home and let me sleep in tomorrow!

Anyway here we are- not sure about everyone’s New Years resolutions, but know we are still working on resolving family relationships, and hoping for better times for us, our friends, our country, and the world.

Mom has hopes around writing more, in fact has joined a women’s writing group around midlife issues (while feeling at times already fast approaching the ‘elder’ category. We will discover whether Mariel wants to, and we can afford for her, to stay at Ithaca College (and perhaps what she will major in). We will cheer Ian on through his last quarters at SCAD and look forward to attending and enjoying his graduation. We will hope for good health for the grandparents and all those who are suffering. and hopefully we will continue to dance- for as Snoopy would say ’To Dance is to Live’ , Yet whether or not we (or you) dance - let’s live and let live.

Alison (Mom ) and Ian and Mariel.

Guatemala and Belize - Out of the comfort zone

2008-10-13T15:58:00.011-04:00

This past summer I went on a vacation with Carlos. The timing was challenging as my daughter Mariel was preparing for college, I had little vacation time accumulated and would be using most of it up, and I was also emotionally in transition - soon to be an empty nester. This last year had been intense, full of creative projects, Mariel's senior year efforts, and a new relationship. I was not getting much communication, support, or payments from my ex towards caring for Mariel this summer and was uncertain about college. I did need and want a break and a chance to connect with Carlos and get some perspective. Yet this trip was to take me far out of my comfort zone, although providing much stimulation and rich experiences.

I shared some impressions with friends, but it has taken a while to put together and upoad the photographs to share (albums 1, 2, 3). Enjoy.

On July 11 we arrived in Guatemala City in the evening. This began a whirlwind of activity, sights, smells, and emotions. We had to catch a van to Antigua and were lucky enough to pick up a father and son traveling together and share the cost.

(Already prices prove to fluctuate with the necessity to negotiate everything). We managed to get settled quickly into a room with a view of one of the volcanoes surrounding Antigua and headed out for dinner and dancing to the music of a Cuban Salsa band. The place was very welcoming, had a community spirit, and the music was good. There was a party of young folk and several older couples, and one older woman shaking it with her half-her-age dance partner. Free and easy. I had really thought we'd be too exhausted to enjoy it, but enjoy (and dance) we did. The exhaustion hit the next day.

Saturday we had to figure out how to get to Panajachel about 2 1/2 hours away and had the choice of numerous tourist agencies arranging collectivos (mini-vans) It was overwhelming trying to decide between all the choices and fluctuating prices. Arranging to leave later in the day, we left our luggage and walked around the town trying to take it all in.

There really was SOOOO much to see and I immediately began to wish we had another day. There was certainly no time to take in a hike up an active volcano.

Antigua is a colonial city, and one sees similar architecture to Mexican, Argentinean and other Latin American cities that were influenced by the Spanish. It is very colorful and run down, with lots of ruins of old cathedrals and buildings. However there was some modern renovation and a lively restaurant and night life scene. One old convent, Casa Santo de Domingo has been turned into quite an upscale hotel and museum with lush gardens and patios to stroll around.

(Since its genesis, Casa Santo Domingo was the bastion of one of the most grand convents of America: the one that sheltered the followers of the order of Santo Domingo de Guzmán.)

The faces we see are mostly Mayan besides the tons of internationals wandering around.(Indians (60% of G's population) still wear their traditional dress, the huipil (a poncho-shaped blouse, very colorful, with embroidery) and corta (a sarong, only slightly less colorful). The colors and patterns identify the tribe (ethnic group) of the wearer- or locale.)

There are numerous language schools in and around Antigua, where folks spend 2 weeks to a month living with families and a few other students, They are fed 3 meals a day, and then study Spanish for around 4 hours a day. There were young students, older (post 55-60) women, and families who participated. They traveled on weekends. I began to feel that this was a great option as I had to depend on Carlos to translate or speak for us, and became frustrated quickly with the language and culture gap. I could understand some but the wall was up when I tried to think and communicate, especially in the markets where negotiation was fierce and fast. French still flowed more readily for me, and I was glad to meet up with some internationals who spoke it.

We found some schools of dance, especially salsa, probably mostly geared to training the internationals. In one section of town there was a huge market, a fair and parade, and a collection of chicken buses coming and going (old school busses painted decoratively in lively colors with luggage and animals thrown on top or taken on board as natives crammed in). The traditional dress and manner of the people walking the streets contrasted with the cell phones they used and the signs for cell phone service (Tioga) all over the town. In the market strawberries, ice cream, beans, nuts sold as well chips and soda. There were lots of coca cola and fanta signs as well in markets and on the walls of homes. Life seems to be lived out on the streets not in homes (not isolated like in rural burbia back in New England)

The colors and action was at times overwhelming and I also felt I had to be on guard for safety and against theft. We had a nice break at a roof top cafe, with fries and fruit shakes where we could watch the light and clouds dramatically shift around the volcanoes and famous cathedrals and catch a young girl being led on a horse about the cobblestone streets.

Back down on the streets, we again were hit upon by many trying to sell goods, bags, huipils, jade necklaces, skirts, etc. Though I wanted to look and maybe buy, it was hard to focus and browse under the sales pressure. We were not really on top of the exchange or knowing what a good price should be or even what we really wanted yet. (Rate exchange was at times $7.5 quetzals for a dollar and at other times down to $7.15. For some reason I had a hard time accessing my ability to do math quickly.

This is a good guide to Antigua besides my photos.

We walked up the hill past numerous language schools to an old famous old church with more ruins in a museum there. The church had been effected by an earthquake that resulted in the movement of it's walls.

When I wanted to take a picture of an old woman selling beads made from colorful seeds in front of this structure, I could feel such a strong energy that I did not want to cross her. I thought buying some beads might ease her , make a connection, and allow for the photo - but even after we bought 4 for 5 quetzals she wanted more for a photo. Tired of being hustled for everything, not really feeling her willingness, and not wanting to feel the strength of her negative energy I let it go and focused on a family happily posing for a portrait.

Although the town is small and walkable in a few hours, there really is a lot packed in, some wonderful boutiques and coffee and jade 'factories' that could have been explored, and many cafe's to hang in and meet all sorts of people. And although the layout of Antigua is not really complicated, somehow it could be a bit confusing to orient oneself to direction, unless back at the central square, Plaza Major.

By afternoon my fatigue caught up along with a headache and we had to rush around to make it back to the bus for the long ride into the higher lands towards Lake Atitlan and Panajachel.

Packing into a mini-van with about 8 -10 other folk, we began a long ride out of town to the north and west of and the ascent into higher lands and the Lake. We encountered and chatted with a doctor and her family. She was doing volunteer work in clinics through either her church or some Christian organization. She also had worked in Rwanda. One daughter was heading to Smith or Mount Holyoke, and this led me to think of Mariel who would soon be heading away from the valley and was not traveling with me.

There was also a woman who had finished 3 years working for an NGO in Haiti with her French ‘man friend’ and his son. They were also studying in Spanish school and taking a weekend to travel to the lake and Chichi market. Both groups told us of their hikes to the active volcano Pacaya, and walking on the glassy and somewhat still molten lava rocks. Some American kids had to ride donkeys as they were too out of shape to manage the several hour hike led by a guide, yet these older travelers had made it. I wondered if I would have the energy, but certainly I had the interest - just not the time.

Riding out of town we had to pass a long strip of homes and storefronts, colorful, many poorly constructed with tin roofs. Some were being constructed now with cement that showed increasing prosperity. There were lots of signs and messages written like graffiti on the walls, lots of commerce. Gas stations, auto parts shops, traditional goods and food, and newer international popular fashion items and fast food, bikes, cell phones and many people waiting on line for buses - many motorcycles and mopeds. The strip seemed to go on for a long while, an endless extension of the outskirts of the city, not so quaint, very intense and layered life. The modern was colliding and being built over (squeezing out?) the traditional. I tried to take some photos from the window, especially of the unique site of a common clothes washing area, a cement bound square or rectangular shaped basin where the women gathered together to wash, beat, and wring out the clothes before they'd take them to dry. This was a ritual that has gone on for centuries perhaps.

Finally we made it out into the countryside, where homes and shacks were more spread out and one could see the terracing of agriculture, corn and other vegetables, in the hills. Also we'd pass interesting colors and shapes of the limestone being excavated for building materials, or just exposed along the curving road. The drive became more thrilling as many buses and cars wizzed along or tried to pass, with lots of honking. Whether these were hellos or warnings, I was often not sure. Soon I had to turn to face forward and lean to the window and halt the engaging conversation with the other travelers as nausea threatened to take over. I was not the only one concentrating. Part of the problem may have been the roller coaster like ride, and another may have been fumes from the exhaust from passing vehicles.

Finally we got to see the volcanoes and Lake Atitlan appear as we made our descent to Panajachel. Arriving at our hotel we also had volcano views and a chance to see the sunset, and then sunrise again, around them. Had a view of both modern and 'luxury' homes with fancy cars in walled in courtyards, and ramshackle roofs, caving in or layered with construction, colorful wash hanging on clotheslines among tin roofs right next door.

Back on the streets to find a place to eat and take in the town, we again found streets filled with markets and goods, some quite nice, but difficult to browse in so short a time. The restaurants along the park and by the water provided lively music and a party like atmosphere for some, though we chose a quieter place to rest and digest in with some wonderful Guatemalan hot chocolate. Panajachel has a chocolate factory we hoped to visit at some point, but never really made it as it was closed the next day (Sunday).

Waking early on Sunday we headed to Chichi market even further north.

Carlos really wanted to go here, a more authentic Mayan town and famed market where tradition and tourists meet. I was partly ready for a retreat to the lake hotel and leisure, but did find the ride and town fascinating, and began to prepare myself for negotiation and purchasing of handicrafts, especially as we needed a bag to carry some in, and bags were plentiful.

We approached the main church set high on top of steps where Mayans situated themselves to burn copal incense, sell and layout flowers for offerings, take a break from the bustle, or gather around the base to display more goods and try to catch the eye and attention of tourists.

The church of Santo Tomás is where the manuscript of the Popul Vuh was found in 1702.The church was built on the site of a Maya altar, and it is reputed that the steps are made from stones of that altar. Mayan- cofrades perform ceremonies on an altar outside the church, but they are not permitted to do those rituals within the church itself

I loved the layering of faces and postures and started to take some photos when I recognized the silhouette of tango friends Ethan and Jen on the top steps. I zoomed in and called to them. Jen was working for Save the Children in a town a few hours away, but they were here to meet up with Ethan's parents whom I also knew from the swing community. Fortuitous timing. A few moments later we would have missed them. We got a portrait and exchanged quick hugs and hellos and then Carlos and I headed around to explore the rows of stalls and bargain. It was hard not to want (and buy) so many of the blankets, masks, bags, hangings, huipils as so much was beautiful, and Carlos was so eager. Yet thinking of carrying all this around helped me put a hold (as well as the fact that we had not exchanged or taken so much money with us).

We made our way to the other smaller church at the end of the market and then headed back and this time ran into another set of Shutesbury/Amherst friends. Annette Cycon was with her daughter Sarah and other young girls and friends of Mariel! The girls were doing volunteer work around Lake Atitlan (San Pedro) Noting their bags I felt reassured that buying some for our daughters was a good idea and also got an idea of what the pricing should be. We did not have a long time to chat so I did not find out more details of their work, and am still very curious. The girls seemed to be having a great time however.

We photographed the graveyard with it's colorful 'houses' over tombs from afar, and then after Carlos bought yet another hanging, we headed back to our bus. Luckily we had time for a quick meal bought from a local Mayan cooking for locals. The fried chicken was tender along with tasty beans and coleslaw (which was unexpected and wonderful) We added in some peeled fruit, peaches, bananas, mango and happily headed back to Pana, to catch a boat to the Hotel Casa del Mundo- which would be a welcome retreat and rest for a few days.

Heading to the dock we were approached by captains who attempted to direct us away from the public boat and overcharge us. Finally we boarded the small motor boat - lancha (launch) and still paid a different rate than the locals (which upset my sense of fairness-and left me feeling taken advantage of) Later we found out this was standard business and it had a certain logic- locals were poorer and regular commuterst.

While waiting to leave, in another unexpected meeting, I caught a candid moment of Annette boarding the other boat to San Pedro with the girls. Her hair was wonderfully backlit by the western afternoon sun.

Ah- being on the water felt great. I could not wait to get in and wash the grit and intensity of all the people, sounds, smells colors away. The sun was setting and the day and I became more mellow.

Casa del Mundo near Jabailito, terraced and built into the hills, was the romantic get away Carlos hoped it would be. Beautifully designed and decorated with local handicrafts, yet simple, with magnificent views of the volcanoes Atitlan and San Pedro. Our rooms were perfectly situated to take this all in.

We made it there for a welcome full 3 course meal which we accompanied with wine. They served guests at a common table and so conversation was lively exchanging personal history and travel information with teachers, newly weds, couples celebrating anniversaries, and families from the US and Europe mainly. This was a bit upscale and very white, although the hosts were Guatemalan (the owner an American had married a Guatemalan woman and they built this place and raised their sons here. Both were going to prestigious colleges in the states like Harvard and Amherst, one with a hotel and tourism emphasis, not surprisingly.

As night fell the sky remained dramatic with clouds gathering over the volcanoes as they did daily, often bringing rain around 2-4 o'clock . The full moon darted in and out. We went to bed pretty early, buzzed by the wine, satiated by the food, and exhausted already from the full 2 days we had just finished.

Lake Atitlan, is considered one of the most beautiful lakes in the world and it did feel quite special. It is a crater and the water is clear, cool and without much plant or fish life. With the wind blowing it could get quite wavy and Carlos enjoyed a daily early morning swim crossing to other nearby shores. Several kayakers enjoyed the boating, although we never managed to make time for this. I would have loved to have had more time to just sunbathe, swim, boat and read on the many hammocks and lounge chairs on various terraces over the water. But we also wanted to explore some of the other lakeside towns.

Monday morning, after a great breakfast with juice, coffee eggs, plantains, tortillas or toast, and beans (traditional) we headed out to San Marcos de Laguna nearby, the hippie new age town coexisting with traditional Mayan. We had to boat as we were warned that hiking in that direction was dangerous. This town housed many expatriots and yes hippies, and workshops of all sort were conducted there for 1 to 2 week visitors, such as a memoir writing workshop led by the famed Joyce Maynard. The first site that greets one is the hotel Schuman, which is comparatively upscale.

A description of the town and experience is here.

Later winding through narrow paths covered with hanging vines and palm leaves we passed many spas, massage, healing/meditation centers, and lodgings with a new age bent (and hearing that many are questionable in terms of credentials and quality). We found our way uphill to the more Mayan center of town. There was a lively basketball game going on, cheered by village onlookers and children were playing in the playground nearby. Further up hill one passed the houses of the local people who spoke mainly Kakchiquel or kakchikel which is the name of local indigenous group and also its language.

People were hanging in front of the church and busy with daily life activities and leisure. We passed by a child care center built of recycled bottles and tried to find the home of a German woman, Susana Heisse, who built her own home out of 'garbage' and began a project of having kids and locals collect and stuff bottles with plastic bags and wrappers and use them to build walls.

After a wonderful small healthy lunch (a soup) and conversationwith a writing workshop participant, a teacher from NY, we attempted to find the Heisse home back up the hills

We never did find it, though were given numerous directions up and down various 'streets'.

After doing some research- It seems there are a number of projects in San Marcos to help locals- One writing workshop participant wrote of them here.

Anyway, as there really was not much in this town, and wanting to enjoy some down time at Casa, we headed back for a swim and brief nap before dinner again. Again the food was fantastic, and there was a dramatic scene with lightening and thunder storms resulting in power outages and dinner by candlelight.

The only thing that clouded our enjoyment was a call from home saying that Largo, Carlos's dog, had taken a turn for the worse and had been diagnosed with cancer. It was uncertain what could be done, perhaps an operation, but as he was old he also might not survive. It was decided he would visit the vet the next day and we would check in.

The next day, torn by wanting to just do 'nothing' and hang, we decided to explore the other side of the lake later in the day after a morning swim and reading time. We figured a boat ride around would be fun and we were curious to see the more 'authentic' and larger town of Santiago de Atitlan, also known for it's crafts. We took the long way around with a boat to San Pedro and watched with a bit of trepidation as dark clouds moved in quickly over the volcanoes. It did seem to rain more frequently there and earlier in the day. Luckily we did have some raingear. As we neared the port to San Pedro we found out we had to get a connecting boat on the other side of the town- at another dock , and so finally took a taxi or 'tuk tuk' over the cobblestone roads and hills of the town in a rush ride to the boat. It was a quick tour of San Pedro, with the feeling of being in some Indian Jones like chase. San Pedro which also seemed like another backpacker hang, was sort of funky and dirty. We had heard it was lively and noisy at night, but we were glad to be staying at the peaceful and beautiful Casa del Mundo.

We made it onto the boat and as we approached Santiago were caught in a downpour and thunder. Still it was fascinating and moody and I tried to capture some of this in photos. The rain cleared some of the action off the streets which in a way was welcome and we darted from stall to stall up the hill to the famed church in the square where there had been a massacre during the long war to independence. The Mayan resistance here was strong and there were memorials to this event. There was also a school in session and signs of a fair - the frame of a very old ferris wheel.

It would have been interesting to wander around more, but we had to catch an early boat back across the lake to make it back in time for dinner. We bought some wonderful wooden puzzle sculptures with hidden drawers and just made it onto a speed boat as the boat was leaving, Carlos negotiated with the captain and practically pushed me on which was upsetting but ultimately a good move, as the public ferry which was originally suggested and cheaper would have taken much longer.

Our last meal at Casa was a bit of Thai cousine, Unfortunately Carlos also was greeted by a message from home. His dog Largo had died. It was quite sad as he could not be there. Still we enjoyed a hot tub staring at the full moon and stars before retiring. We thought of Largo's spirit and imagined him joining the energy and light of the night sky above us and over the Lake - a return to the elements.

In the morning we then had one last quick swim and I was truly sorry to have to leave but we decided to stick to our plan and head to Antigua/Guatemala City and an overnight bus up to Flores/Tikal to see the ruins.

We had to make a connection in Pana to the collectivo and luckily was able to leave our bags at the hotel we had stayed at while we got more money and tried to shop one last time. A bit pressured, I bought some more jade jewelry at a higher price than I would have liked, and Carlos bought a necklace for Jen and mask and we dashed back to meet the bus. Carlos reminded me that when home I would only appreciate having the jewelry and not remember the price. That was true and I am already wearing it and appreciating the beauty, as are others. Yet with concern for paying for college and the rising price of oil, I was already torn about the price of the vacation and feeling a bit guilty spending on myself.

The ride down to Antigua was luckily not as wild as the ride up, and Carlos was able to sleep some, but my stomach had started to bother me and so when we arrived and went to eat I was not quite as able to enjoy a meal or feel as rested. I also had a bit of diarrhea.

Back in Antigua, I again wished we could stay a while and relax in the square, people watch, talk to travelers, or explore more of the restaurants and hear music, but we only had a few hours and needed to get food and drink for the overnight trip.

Feeling rushed, we managed to do our shopping get some coffee for gifts and sit briefly by the central square Plaza Mayor fountain.

This was a weekday and there was a lot more hustle and bustle in town. I again could take in the many internationals resting after their day of language study, or tourists also taking a break as well as the energy and effort of those selling goods or offering shoe shines and …yes young boys would eagerly approach to polish even one's open toed sandals. One person has to say this about all the children working. It seems they should be in school, yet many are not.

Needing to take a bathroom break, we rushed back to the tourist agency only to be told we had to get on the bus. It was earlier than we had hoped, and then we had a long ride through town picking up various other travelers, some of whom we had met already in other locations. Finally heading in the rain to Guatemala City we also got stuck in traffic jams where buses blocked intersections, ignoring lights to try to push ahead of each other hopelessly and with macho attitude (and stupidity).

We had to hang in the terminal because it was too dangerous to leave and go through intense airport like security checks before boarding. Finally on board, we were also bombarded by country-western like latin music on Overhead TV"s which would have been fun (funny) and enjoyable if we weren't so tired-Finally they were turned off and we luckily could stretch out over two seats each to try to sleep. Other than the early morning police checkpoint, where we had to get off while they went through the bus, we went straight through to Flores.

Arriving early morning, I was already beat and exhausted. We had thought we might head to the terminal and leave bags so we could visit the nearby nature preserve, but in a daze I thought we should disembark with all the others in Flores (across the causeway), maybe have breakfast, and then find our way. Looking unsure of our plans, we immediately got approached by another private van driver who wanted lots of money to take us to the park and later our hotel in Remate which was 30 km away. Exhausted and feeling bound by luggage I still did not want to use up so much of our money and wanted Carlos to call the Park as they were supposed to pick folks up for free. Unfortunately we could not get through (a travel agent supposedly tried to call for us on his cell).

We were about to walk with our luggage up the street and then just decided to sit a bit and get coffee in a place right there and finally agreed to let the driver take us. He would stay while we visited the park, watch our luggage, and then drive us to El Remate. I am sure we overpaid (it cost as much as was the ride from Guatemala city) to go a very short distance, but we did not have to walk across the causeway or later go back to Flores and find a collectivo with all our luggage. We got a quick tour of the little town on the lake, which did seem colorful- pastel and quaint, a good spot to stay on the way to Tikal.

Note: by now you may have a sense of the pace and all that we were trying to take in and adjust to . For me it was a challenge to try to relax and enjoy while negotiating and planning. (so it was challenging for Carlos too to be with me). I found myself out of my comfort zone, and actually missing home or wishing we had planned a less ambitious trip, a few days on a beach somewhere with more time just to laze and connect. I was also beginning to be sick. However we pressed on with our 'activities'.

As no guests were at the Park so early, we actually had a quiet self-guided walk across hanging bridges over the canopy, listening to the howler monkeys with some information on the tropical trees and their uses, and time to chill. This was welcome. We then went on a series of 6 ziplines for our 'adventure' part of our trip. Being challenged by heights, this was an achievement and a thrill for me. It was just too bad we did not get good pictures. Our guides were very supportive however and did try to snap some, and pointed out some monkeys. Finally we had an easy horseback ride around and our knowledgeable guides showed us the huge ant hills (or termite like hills) and we passed the resident spider monkeys,

My intestines still off balance, I was then glad to head to El Remate and swim in the blue/green caribbean like Lake PetenItza. Surprisingly however the access was a beach of limestone like sand that became mud and one sank in almost up to the knees. There was lots of bird and goat poop to avoid and lake grasses with a sulphur-like smell. Floating felt fine, but later I decided to take medicine as the diarrhea did not subside and I wanted insurance against all the possible bacteria we were exposed to.

Up in the hotel we had a tourist picture view of the lake and pier/palapa from our window and swing seat . Outside on the grounds the tropical plants were wonderful to walk around, We found an iguana darting into a rocky ledge by the pool. After cooling off with AC and napping cozily together we then enjoyed a spectacular sunset and a lakeside meal which I unfortunately could not stomach as it was bit too peppery .

Sleep was welcome- as we had to get up early for a 5:30 collectivo to Tikal.

Tikal-

This was the turning point of our vacation, about half way through, and our last day and night in Guatemala.

Luckily we arrived early as it was cloudy and threatening rain on and off. We did not attempt a morning sunrise tour as we had heard that there rarely was a view as it was mostly overcast. Indeed it had rained this morning too.

Anway - there is not much I wish to say although lots one can research and read. The site is huge and impressive and probably more interesting with a guide. We managed with our general guidebooks. For the price of the entrance fee (3 X what the book had indicated and 6 X what locals pay 150 vs 25 quetzals) they should have included a map/guide--but that was extra.

Regardless, we read and walked and climbed. The pyramids being so steep that you had to use a wooden constructed stairway to ascend as the real steps were roped off. They certainly would have been precarious, steep, wet, and slippery.

I was proud that I pushed my fear of heights and made it up temples 4 and 5. Carlos was kind enough to watch (and protect me from behind)

At the top of these pyramids we did try to take in the expanse of the jungle and reflect on what it might have been in the Mayan days when it was a busy metropolis, yet I did not feel the same spiritual and mysterious connection I had had in 1983 at Palenque and Uxmal.

Later as it started to rain, and we were tiring, we headed back to the entrance to checkout the museum and meet our collectivo. We passed by one more sculpted stone altar for offerings and there was guide talking to two young men. We listened in as he explained a bit of the Mayan symbology and beliefs. And this became more interesting as he touched on the year 2012, the end of the Mayan calendar and spoke with Carlos a bit, letting us in that there were shamanic gatherings (even just 2 days before) at Tikal and other sites throughout Central America. Shamans and medicine folk as far away as Israel were gathering regularly to 'help' with the transition. We gathered that there were rituals and praying, but perhaps also thinking and planning for the future of our earth. It seems the Mayan traditions are being mixed in with other orientations and maybe newer age philosophies.

Though it seemed we were far removed from the daily news and concerns of war, oil prices, and environmental damage, we were reminded that these concerns and issues were still far reaching and spiritual minds were joining to address them. I can only hope prayers and change of focus and attitude may help.

Information on Tikal.

Again after a local a meal of chicken and slaw, while watching a soccer match , we headed on the collectivo to the hotel , had a meal, admired some more Mayan crafts, and bought some last minute gifts .The next day we went onto the Belize.

Now trying to reconstruct this trip after about 3 weeks back, so much is fading. I was glad we paid for more expensive bus that took us across the border, straight towards Belize City. We had to pay the full fare though we stopped in St Ignacio, but we managed to keep our tickets to try to use it from St Ignazio to Belize City a few days later (Which we did)

We were definitely tired but determined to enjoy. We made it to Clarissa Falls a ranch in Belize finally had some laid back time. Expecting a beautiful room with a view of an exotic jungle river the Mopan, we actually had a bare room with fans, shutters to keep bugs out, and a bathroom facing the river, also shuttered. We were about to leave, when we met a group from a wedding party who was staying there who seemed to be having so much fun we decided to just stay, and give it a chance. Be with each other and process. Chaina - the owner made very refreshing shakes. We got to witness a cattle crossing and as it was very hot and humid, we decided to tube down the rapids, encouraged by another couple coming out of the water. Joined by two of the young ladies, studying OT, we set off down 7 sets of rapids, with lots of brown water in between to paddle. We were told to stay center, and that was good advice as we heard later that snakes and iguanas sometimes hung on low branches and might drop on you. and there was TONS of garbage, unfortunately, collecting among the roots of trees along the shore. This was something that made me again miss home- the cleaner Deerfield River, and left me a bit concerned about the water I got in my mouth when dumping over after a hitting some rocks. Yes I dumped, yet the water was cool. The only thing was that I also hit a huge rock on my sacrum and bum- which then was quite sore and had a major black and blue mark for weeks.

Concern over the water and my already upset stomach, I did continue with antibiotics and drank chamomile and lemon tea, though a garlic/cumin and salt drink was suggested.

Besides the fun of the rapids and joy of the water, we also had some added adventure as there was a sudden rain storm and thunder burst. Luckily it did not get so heavy that it flooded the river immediately threatening us with way too fast and high water, But later that day the river did rise from all the rain upstream the past few days and we were not able to go caving at Actun Mun or Bartons Cove as we hoped.

We could not go to another recommended set of ruins either as the local ferry would not pass. This was all a disappointment, however by now it seemed one could only just give in and go with the flow. So we hung out reading and just being and enjoying the food and conversation with the woman who ran the ranch. Her cousin took us on a horseback ride instead. He was knowledgeable and educated and verified that the limestone rocks, which I noticed and were fascinated by, were from an inland sea (ancient) . That is why there are lots of caves in the area.

After two days, we thought we'd head to the coast, but didn't because of the threat of a hurricane (which went up towards Mexico). Yet as the roads to the Pine forest, gorges, and waterfalls were muddy, and not advised to travel on, we instead went to St Ignacio (not so interesting of pretty town but we tried the internet) and more local ruins at Cahal Pech. These ruins were some of the oldest Mayan and proved to be a peaceful place with a good museum to actually learn about the archeology and culture. In town we also talked with a man from Ireland we had seen the night before with a Mayan woman. We though they were maybe having an affair as she set him up with a room. But it turned out she was guide teaching him about archeology and healing, and again focused on the 2012 transition.

Finally at the end of a long day we just enjoyed the Ranch- the plants, butterflies, birds, and the Toucans that sat on our shoulders, geese, turkeys, chickens wandering around, and dogs that followed us. On our trek back up the long road, we scouted out some interesting stones and I found an arrowhead or ancient flintstone tool which just fit in my palm. Chaina was concerned I might be picked up by Belizian authorities at the airport. She also kept ones that were found on her property, noting that it was an site of ancient settlements. I was about to leave it with her, yet it felt like it was meant for me, so I decided to pack it.

Again we talked about healing with Chaina, and the next day she drove us to get the bus to the Caye. She left me with words something like 'Now Alison- Remember, you have to accept your gift, because with your gift, the more you can give to other people, and the more you will get yourself." And something about having a gift is great blessing and should not be ignored.

The way she thought about her gifts and Mayan background, is that she brought healing and goodness to other people and in turn they would bring goodness and healing to others, in an expanding reverberation. The stone ‘tool’ reminds me of this, as I wonder what to do in my life.

Finally we made it to Caye Caulker, 45 minutes on a ferry from Belize City and stayed at place run by expats from the Keys, facing the water with welcome white sand, blue water and cool breezes. This was the vacation I probably needed (and more of), and Carlos was more in his element. Sand, sun, water, music, food, a laid back Jamaican reggae-like feel. Lots of internationals, (and young women in bikinis :) We got to snorkel and see manatees, sea turtles, barracudas, groupers, moray eels, nurse sharks, identify and enjoy lots of tropical fish and even pet stingrays!

There was only one scary moment when I saw Carlos dive down after a stingray and stroke it, even along it's tail! Luckily it did not attack and he did not get caught on it!

We danced a bit of salsa on the sand and tango in a local restaurant and deepened our connection.

All in all it was a very intense and full vacation, but Carlos and I managed to draw closer and share thoughts, dreams, and discoveries.

I found that I missed home and dicovered myself appreciating the beauty of the states, the Valley, the comforts and closeness of family, friends community. Although it seems there are many from States and Europe who have left to settle in Belize and in Guatemala I felt less interested in making that choice and was ready to return.

There was so much transition ahead as Mariel prepared to go to school and Ian was entering his senior year. Carlos was proceeding with his divorce. I faced my work and home again and now have more time to reflect and define my life.

Some links:
A video and information on both Lake Atitlan and Chichi.

Language school on the Lake Atitlan

Geology of Guatemala by some students

Ephemeral moments, meeting Baryshnikov

2008-09-23T10:09:00.010-04:00

In January 2004 Mikhail Baryshnikov came to Holyoke, MA to perform a series of solos. Having been a ballet dancer and long time admirer of this marvelous embodiment of playful male, trickster-like, energy, I grabbed this opportunity to see him 'live', meet, and perhaps dance with him as there was to be a pre-performance party. I got tickets for my young daughter, a creative mover, budding Lindy Hopper, and who was studying ballet once again as a young teen. I also wished to inspire her (and myself) with the possibilities of movement and expression well into middle age, and share a hoped for spectacular performance. Both of us were confident on the social dance floor and willing to engage with this star.

Well as things manifested, Baryshnikov showed up very late to the party, flying in from Paris and the shooting of the final episode he appeared in for Sex in the City. He was exhausted, did not come out on the dance floor, and only a few were allowed to meet him and get his autographs. The next night after a mixed performance of mostly post-modern choreography, with some very fine subtle gestural and dramatic moments but not as much energy or movement as a younger Sasha would have been capable of, there was an opportunity to meet him backstage.

As a 50 year old former dancer, with a Russian heritage, I felt compelled to connect if I could. Pushing aside the awkwardness of being a 'fan' and waiting on line - we managed to meet the 'man' just before he retired for the evening. A freelance photographer Dan Overton was there alongside us and looking for a photo-op for his assignment for the Holyoke Sun. He shot Baryshnikov with my daughter, after signing my old pointe shoes, and then managed a shot with me and Baryshnikov (who by now was being generous as it was obvious he was spent). Unfortunately some other woman jumped into this moment of 'mine'.

Dan promised us photos, whether printed or not. However after giving a release for Mariel's photo to be used, and my address,I never did receive any prints or get to see the published article.

Our special moment which we worked at to create, began to fade into only our memories, though periodically for years I tried to trace and access a photo or copy. First I contacted the then editor of the Sun, Hope, who provided contact info for Dan, but Dan never replied.

This fall- once more, with contact information from the small paper now online, I recontacted the editor. Perhaps the issues were now archived?

This was my response-

"I'm sorry to inform you that there is no information on a Dan Overton here. I am the new editor and have been here for one year and never have heard of him. I wouldn't have any way of contacting him any better than you. As far as archives, we don't keep bound books any longer, and we don't keep loose papers from that far back. We certainly don' t have anything on disk because our main office was flooded around then. I'm really sorry I can't help, it's just too long ago. Also, if Mr. Overton was a freelancer, which I'm assuming he was because The SUN has no full-time staff, we wouldn't have the rights to give away his photo anyhow.

Regards,
Aimee H"

I guess- the paper and print trail is not meant to be followed, floods and all. If 5 years ago is too long to trace, how in the world do folks trace back 100s of years? Persistance and luck. I feel for historians and those tracing roots and family.

I guess our moments with Mikhail are just to remain in our minds, and any of those that witnessed. I doubt he has much memory of it, or that it had any meaning for him. We were just more passing (and pressing) fans on his continuum.

Letting it go into the continuum of time and memory.

Exploring during seasonal transition

2008-09-22T11:04:00.006-04:00

Here are some photos of me from a hike in the Pioneer Valley, along woodsy paths in Leverett, that explored sites that perhaps were native American archeological sacred places. Most were organized pilings of stone. Some had Equinox orientations, or were near other ledges where fires could once have been lit and stories told. Some may have been colonial, as these woods used to be cleared for farms.

This was a 'chamber' created on a stream with cascades. One could sit or lie in it. It felt like a meditation site, full of female energy, in which womblike, one could feel protected and focus on the rushing water sounding outside the stones around one. Right now there were leaks and the chamber was wet. There was some quartz on the inside amongst other fieldstones that were piled outside.

Anyway,
The fall is certainly moving in, although I expect a bout of Indian Summer which often happens around my birthday. As things settle, I hope to write a bit more and post some photos from the Guatemala trip.

Meanwhile, it is a time for reflection and gathering forces. L'shana tova. If we don't get to share a meal, may all find folks to walk with, eat with, pray with, be at peace and thankful with.

Let's hope for a turn around in the world around us.

Depression : Out of the Shadows

2008-05-27T15:46:00.005-04:00

PBS produced and ran a special Depression: Out of the Shadows

Having suffered from severe depression and the stigma surrounding those who suffer, I was deeply grateful to hear of and see the program. I think those patients and families who have had an opportunity to speak out and help others must be grateful souls and I applaud their courage. I too would like to speak out and help others as well as become an active advocate towards change in the attitudes and policies of our society.

I experienced over 3 years of struggling with treatment and medications, and survived an unsupportive workplace that contributed to my nearly giving up. Many friends and family did indeed expect me just to 'get over it'.

I was thankful for those who stood by witnessing this painful period, and continued to hold out a light, perspective, even while I could not smile nor feel much of anything. While I would not condone suicide, I fully understand that extreme longing for relief from what was indeed mental AND physical anguish.

Love and concern for my children prodded me on to persevere (as well as some VERY close friends). Will power did come into play and the training from my academic background, a major in psychology from Smith, helped me to have an intellectual perspective. I continued to read and do research towards understanding and coping with the illness.

I think the program or follow-ups could and should emphasize how the insurance system, and negative family and work attitudes can adversely effect those who suffer. One block to succesful treatment is the expense of (and lack of access to) brain scans which could help diagnose and treat anxiety /depression and contributes to many suffering from long term trial and error of mixing of medications that in themselves can have severe side effects, so severe to even cause suicidal thoughts or actions.

Also contact with medical professionals is minimal over the long trial and error period of medications where severely depressed persons really need more monitoring and more constant care.

If there is shame, or shyness, on top of anxiety/depression- it is extremely difficult for patients to advocate for themselves. Many shun contact with the depressed, where contact could be an important/esential part of the support and healing that is needed. On that note the use of touch towards healing, or maintaining mental health, was not really covered. Tiffany Field's research, Ashley Montague and others could be referred to.

I must say that viewing the program brought tears to my eyes: sadness - not depression, though I could also recall the darkness. I am very grateful that I can feel joy (lots of it) these days. It takes a lot of self-care to maintain however.

With the darkest years behind, yes it does feel like I am out of the shadows for the most, I think about writing in more detail about my experience and the atrocious treatment/attitudes I was subjected to at work, the struggles of single parenting and maintaining a home that piled on the pressure, and the moments with friends and family that made survival even possible. Still sometimes it seems too close to consider - stirring up some of the anxiety, fear and negativity I worked hard to move past.

Anyway. I do recommend and refer this site for support and research! you can watch the program here

Also - you can read my piece: Are you Zippy, a more personal snippet.

Dance, Press, and creative collaborations

2008-03-19T11:45:00.007-04:00

Well we got some Bulletin press for my piece and Amherst Ballet with that wonderful photo of Mariel as well.

And in The Springfield Republican too.

There was also a bit of coverage for ARHS production of AIDA. With many more photos in the actual paper than online, and several of Mariel.

This week or next, there is an article coming out covering Carlos and the creation of his video. He is excited about this media attention and I am proud and happy for him.

We need to explore options for funding and future performances and collaborations. Where we go next in our creative endeavors is to be determined. (as well as in our social alliance)

Meanwhile we finally enjoyed dancing once again at the Iron Horse last night, and I got to exhibit crazy March 'hair' at Jackie's Tangopulse milonga this past weekend.

"To live is to dance, to dance is to live."
Snoopy

Amherst Ballet Dance Diversity

2008-02-20T16:09:00.006-05:00

Amherst Ballet Dance Diversity: A Collage of Works
Amherst Ballet is pleased to announce our 31st season performances, Dance Diversity, A Collage of Works, underwritten in part by a grant from the Amherst Cultural Council.

A rich tapestry, our repertoire program will showcase the many styles of dance, collaborations with local artists and beautiful costumes that Amherst Ballet has become known for in our 30-plus year history.

Bowker Auditorium at UMASS
Saturday March 8 2:00pm matinee
Saturday March 8 7:00pm evening performance
Sunday March 9 2:00pm matinee

The repertoire will begin with a new work based on the Chinese theory of Five Elements, a unique collaboration between guest choreographer Alison Ozer, media artist Dr.Carlos Fontes, and renowned composer John Cooper who is creating an original composition inspired by the choreography. Five Elements incorporates choreography based on developmental movement, yoga, improvisation, modern dance, and ballet techniques to express the different energies and qualities of each element along with multimedia visual images to promote a sense of harmony and connection with the Earth, among the dancers, and with the audience.

Che Che Colé, is an exciting work combining Salsa and Mambo styles that will have you dancing in your seats! Ten Amherst Ballet students, including Mariel Adams, will perform the choreography of guests Hector DeJesus and and Sasha Jiminez, company members of the Hasha Y Machete Dance Stylists Dance Company based in Boston.

The ethereal Space Oddity choreographed by faculty member Jenny Bennett-Mansur is a contemporary piece inspired by the music of David Bowie as adapted by Seu Jorge.

To close we invite you to enjoy excerpts from Tchaikovsky’s great classic, The Sleeping Beauty. More than 30 dancers will perform choreography created by Director Catherine Fair and faculty member Joanna Duncan (based upon Marius Petipa’s work) in lavish new costumes created in the style used in the Paris Opera Ballet’s rendition of this magical tale.

Tickets to the March 8 and 9 performances are $12 for children, students and seniors, and $16 for adults and can be purchased be purchased from Amherst Ballet (413) 549-1555 (info@amherstballet.org) or the Fine Arts Center Box Office (413) 545-2511.. For more information, please contact Amherst Ballet

Still Freezing in Winter - sliding on icy roads

2008-02-20T14:53:00.003-05:00

Well,

It has been many months since posting anything on this blog and wondering if anyone reads mine anyway. For the 'someones' that do:

Here are some news updates that warm my heart at least.

First,

We managed to get through the fall!

This one was full of intense school commitments for my daughter, including college search and applications, and focus on senior year academic courses- calculus being the most challenging.

We were proud of Mariel's AV film productions:

A short documentary of Amherst Ballet including interviews of the students and director and film clips of classes, performances and the building.

A music video that she worked on with 2 students, and did most of the direction, camera shooting and editing

She is now assisting the teacher and students!

Her budding interest in film and media studies has of course affected her choice of colleges by expanding her range of interests: psychology, biology, dance, theater, film....We wait to hear from the 4 main choices.

Besides College, there has been Dance:

Mariel has been preparing for her final Amherst Ballet Performances this March (see next post) while continuing to swing dance when possible.

We did make it to the American Lindy Hop Championships to dance and party with friends this past October.

As to MY dancing:

I took on a big project to choreograph for Amherst Ballet and try to realize a concept conceived over 30 years ago: to construct a dance based on the Five Elements and Seasons.

My taking and teaching yoga, working with meridians and energy, also contributed to movement ideas.

The original intent was to work with my daughter in creative collaboration along with other dancers, musicians and a videographer.

However it soon became evident that working with one's 17 year old daughter, eager to separate and move on her own, was not a reasonable idea.

I have continued the collaboration with 5 other young dancers.

Besides this creative collaboration I also have continued to grow my relationship and combat icy road conditions (and luckily only a few attitudes) towards our association. We are fortunate to share respect and warmth still. I treasure the time and the learning from each other.

Our children have been gracious and for the most supportive.

Mariel moves from being thankful that my focus is not so intent on her, welcoming this warm man into our lives, and at times still wanting more of my attention. It is all understandable and negotiable.

My son Ian continues to be prolific with his photographic work and is maturing. He spent more time with us this winter break, though mostly for dental work. It was good to see him and his sister hanging around and even get some appreciation for my cooking over Thanksgiving.

Work - that other part of many of our lives that takes up so much time and energy is quite another story.

Luckily our department, that seemed under siege by the University of Masschusetts President's Office, should - for the next year and half or so - remain intact. "Remaining intact" is an interesting concept as there are varying opinions as to how 'intact' our group really is, or functions. But that is a longer story.

Suffice it to say, our jobs are not in danger of dissappearing imminently, as it seemed they might have with the turn of the year.

Friends remain friends and we manage to keep up at least by phone, talks and walks, and a dance or two.

John Robison manages to keep in touch in spite of his whirlwind book tours.

One day maybe I will get back to writing too!

SO

Moving towards Spring: this is all good news.

Blessings for all.

Back to Fall after Heating up with Summer

2007-09-20T16:18:00.000-04:00

Well we are back into fall with hectic school schedules and streets. The students are back and my daughter is engaged in her senior year. (That means I am engaged as well, both at work and at home).

and yes Amherst has gone back to its usual concerns:

town meetings, school budgets, and UMASS issues

which have kept the pages of the Amherst Bulletin full (well not really full- but the slots have been taken) -

so my piece on a lighter and more social note was not published.

Here it is for those who want a peak at the activity on the dance, singles, and dating scene.

Over the summer I actually stayed clear of the Iron Horse as the heat-weather wise increased and I was busy engaging more heatedly in my relationship and with dance and school tours with my daughter.

So the cycle goes.

Heating up with summer

Jim Oldham recently wrote

"It's summer, mid-July, a quiet time for politics and town government. Or is it?”

Well, in Amherst and the Valley, summer may or may not be a time for heated political controversy – but it does seem to heat up on the social scene. And this begins in the late spring.

As the snow cover melts and the ground warms, many seem to shed their timidity along with their cold New England covers and venture out to find their mates or re-engage with them. Yes the Rites of spring begin anew.

What do we notice? Well first of all the bars and cafes fill up, especially during the weeks before graduation.

Heading into the Iron Horse on a Tuesday night in mid-May for salsa - of the movement kind - one could hardly find room on the multi-ethnic dance floor. Bodies beginning to sweat were still shifting ever more close, syncopating their rhythms, while the minds set on the hunt were sensing the smells and interpreting the signals of the pheromones released. Some nights seemed to get quite steamy.

Late night, when the Regaton began, a few young females backed their butts into their as yet un-introduced male partners. Even for older dancers, and by that I mean the over 40 crowd, the engagement intensified and the warmth continued to help break down barriers between generations and cultures.

With summer, and more space on the floor, the dances provide an inviting place to make connections and expand one’s repertoire, movement or other. A follower might rest her head intimately in the crook of her leader’s neck during a slower, more sensual and cooler, Bolero.

While activity in the local gyms may also quiet down after the initial spring rush to get in shape, the local ponds, hike, and bike paths fill up. These places provide a chance to cool off, burn off stress and pounds, and allow cruisers to meet. Dropping by Puffers, one is almost always able to dip and quip with some current, former, or future friend or lover.

The elements of earth, water, and air nurture our awareness of our sensual selves. If you add a little fire - of the elemental or personal kind - well passions may ignite, and they flare more evidently in summer.

Perusing the local and national online dating sites one can also see an increase in activity with old and new profiles. It is a yearly phenomenon. How do I know? Well I have observed and participated as one of the many almost hidden, older, singles in the Valley.

For many middle age persons during the school year the focus is on children, work, and home. One sees people engaged as couples, or in groups, at school and family events. By the late spring and summer, some of these couplings seem to fall apart as the children enter a new phase of schooling, or as the semester of undergrad, grad school, and teaching ends. One friend revealed to me that her husband of 20-something years just left with no warning indications, the day after her youngest graduated high school.

Those tired of the same old same-old seem to strike out anew, either publicly or clandestinely. On Match.com pages with 16 profiles each, local males ages 42-55, increase from about 10 to between 25 and 30. Approximately 200 out of 450 of these men are often ‘active’ within 24 hours. These are ones with photos, including updated pics with happier smiling faces in a natural setting, often along with dogs and motorcycles. The drab, disappointed looks of frustration and winter dreariness disappear, though some never seem to age as they resurface, year after year, seeking the ‘right’ one.

On the adult sites more men directly seek ‘discreet’ connections. These are ones not ready or willing to leave convenient or caring, professed 'loving', marriages for the seduction of sex that spring and summer sparks.

So are these searches successful? Well on the more erotic sites it seems the number of ladies looking is about 1 for every 17-20 men. Do the math. But in terms of ‘relationship’ seekers, more women are out in droves. On Match, about 140 out of about 385 local women ages 42 to 55 within 25 miles of Amherst are ‘active’ within 24 hours.

What I witness in the summer is greetings by numerous new couples on the streets and at places like Amherst coffee, Raos, Amherst Brewery, Fitzwillies, and La Cazuela. They hold hands on the way into Amherst Cinema, the Yiddish book Center, the Calvin, and Bishop’s Lounge.

Late spring, I glanced up over my weight training machine to notice a new face at the gym, and found a matching photo and profile online later that week. With the school year coming to a close, this academic family man, new to divorce and the dating scene, decided to emerge from his cocoon and check out the other butterflies. Luckily for me he also liked to dance and was willing to try out a new partner. I knew that I had to move quickly to invite him for wine and tango before the early summer rush.

With new romances budding like flowers, Amherst and the Valley are quite active in the spring and summer months. By fall these new relationships may be seasoned, and then solidified more privately over the long winter, or they may have bloomed and burned up with the intense heat. Either way the activity will likely wane and Amherst will go back to its usual concerns; town meetings, school budgets, and UMASS issues.

Are Mom's lost? An Answer from a Mom

2007-08-28T10:30:00.000-04:00

An answer to John Robison who posed the question in his blog entry.

"When I follow the links from your comments, and read your own blogs, in many cases I read almost exclusively about kid raising. And it leads me to wonder.

You must have several lives going on all at once . . not just kid-raising. Where are they? "

Well,

First of all I do hope to address concerns and reveal some of the 'lives' I live, and thoughts I have, that extend beyond my family.

As to work: computer progamming in a development office at a University is less than fascinating to me...Do you really want me to BLOG about it?

This is some of my longer answer to John:

Hey John,

I am happy we got to touch base in person at least for a short while before your leap further into the media spotlights.

Time- is an issue and focus. (Ah the mom excuse ...)

Have been caught up in being a mom this past week, mostly trying to negotiate college funding with men who see things almost exclusively from their perspective and desires and are NOT concerned with other family/children issues nor MY being able to turn my assets and time towards developing myself.

Trying to engage towards a 'cooperative' agreement with a bright, determined, uni-focused son who has been ill, preferred to sleep most of the days, does and did not plan well ahead, does not wish to look at facts or take time to analyse and understandably has difficulty being in the middle of two parents who differ, along with trying to enagage a provocative and uncommunicative ex-who is always the victim, witholds documentation and details to support decision making- and who seems to think one day and 2 weeks out of the year with his son, and a few weekends with his daughter, is enough time for his commitment to his children... (Other than HE works- as if I don't) .... has left little time (or energy ) for ME.

On top of this I did manage to carve out some time for working, teaching, swimming, dancing tango, a bit of writing, love-making, paying bills, tending a sick cat, and ah yes- sleep. (and a phone call or two to you)

But the main focus was the children and concerns around them; financing, feeding, driving, attention to THEIR interests and concerns, etc.

I think it is a matter of biology , society, values, and the reality of survival- in the interest of the success of the next generation.

As to writing and talking about it. That too is partly biology, socialization and values.

I hear an implicit judgment that 'Moms are lost', or will be, if they focus so much on children - that they become boring, and lack diversity.

I think that is what MEN mainly see, think, feel and judge. Women sharing these concerns and topics with each other can be endlessly engaged and find meaning and direction from each other, besides support.

Our society does not VALUE this.

Damned if we do and damned if we don't.

A career focused female like Hillary Clinton is seen as a cold calculating bitch...not feminine...

We all talk (and write) about what concerns us most at the time and what we have partly been raised and encouraged to do.

What about men that talk about cars, motorcylces, sports, and audio equipment as their obssesions? What is so damn diverse and interesting about that? What is so meaningful?

One might say it is selfish,childish, about power and mastery, competition, and 'typical', vs. nurturing, caring, and community building.

Where does it leave the men if they don't have women to love, have sex with, and keep the family web working? The women who queston them and provide a key to their understanding and accepting themselves and the world?

What happens when kids leave, is similar to what happened before women had them. Women can return to some of the interests and activities that they were excited about as young girls, or develop new passions, careers, hobbies, and friends.

They can maybe sleep again more peacefully.

We all may start talking and writing more about aging as that takes more attention and becomes a strong personal (and societal) concern.

You write about your life-

I am your friend and so find it fascinating from that perspective alone. It is an opportunity for me to know you better - and connect. It provides context and allows for compassion.

These are typical female interests, concerns, perspectives.

As I have also have a niece with Autism/Aspergers it is interesting though frankly not as informative as some research articles and experts who work with this would be, or talking with my sister directly about her child.

(Ah mothers with children again)

And then - on top- you have some strange and funny stories to tell and do it with style.

an aside

Just wondering how much of this post has been provoked by my discussions, complaints, and questions about male/female relationships, and the different struggles we have shared with each other about our lives and seeking balance - with a little time to express our souls.

Recall:
Your focus on Asperger's became an obssession
One - because you are blessed with that kind of mind

Two - because you found out about it and were encouraged to write about it.

Three- your writing and experience is marketable.

Your ability to write and do the book thing is partly possible because you do have a mate to help on the home front. Jack is older- and needs less attention and both allows for time, and your brother paved the way.

Besides you also get lots of encouragement from female friends (and readers) :) .

There is SOOOO much more to this topic.

And yes males may be both more shy, more private, and also less eager to reveal their ideas to a group.... perhaps more direct and detailed?

As to blogging about diverse thing etc.

What IS appropriate to blog about? Is mine diverse? Will it be if I get the time to write about ALL that concerns me?

It could be more so- Would anyone read it except if they were pointed to it or interested in the particular topic?

And what is NOT appropriate to blog about? I've gotten feedback that I'm too revealing... both personally and about ideas I may wish to market.

Safer if I just talked about the kids?

Alison

What Midlife Women May Need From A Man Before Having Sex

2007-08-18T13:30:00.001-04:00

Again- reading and responding to a post:
What Women May Need from a Man before Having Sex, as posted by the Dating Goddess

I have many thoughts on this topic and hopefully will compile and compose them at some time for consumption (umm). Here are some.

Please read her summary of basic points from Laws of the Jungle-Dating for Women Over 40:

It seems that there are 4 basic areas that may need to exist for a woman to feel 'chemistry' and agree to sex-

Positive personal traits and acceptability

The possibility and potential of an ongoing relationship

Willingness for a man to 'invest' in her emotionally and materially

That there is at least some physical attraction on both sides, or at least that there are no physical turn-offs.

For a man simply

He must find her physically attractive.

She is willing.

It seems that if all or many of the criteria are not met, the women find sex is unfulfilling and pointless.

Here is MY response:

On an important note.
What women and men say may reflect more on their own awareness of their motivations than actuality.

Men’s quick and gut reactions ARE as they say-
A woman should be attractive and willing-

But they too may have other desires and qualifications especially as they mature.

Importantly for midlife daters (and others):

A woman and a man may want to know that the prospective partner is STD free - and to determine that and whether to trust your partner may take time.

Women may have better impulse control and so choose to take more time to ‘investigate’.

Women may be concerned with attractiveness and certainly also need to test a man’s ‘willingness’.

They may want sex as much as men, but understand the implications of ACTING too quickly on this.

Yes, much may be the same for a younger woman, or younger and older men. And Age may not be as relevant as objective and experience with dating and relationship building.

Objectives change over the course of one’s life.

Many women DO want sex and not necessarily ‘committed’ or ‘exclusive’ relationships, especially when working on their careers or coming out of a divorce or sexless/loveless marriage.

Many women may be judged more harshly for admitting this or acting on this. It is more acceptable if in a ‘relationship’.

Being open to sex, does not mean not ALSO wanting affection, caring or consideration, and attention.

This also goes for men.

Defining commitment is important. One can be ‘commited’ to an ongoing relationship and yet not present in the moments you are sharing with a partner.

Ability to be committed and attentive in the moment, whether it is one date or more, may be more important for a woman in determining if she wishes to have sex.

Many maturer men and women may find that disconnected, inattentive, slam-bang, eyes tight shut sex becomes more and more unfufilling and unmeaningful over time.

Ones perception of ‘boredom’ may have as much to do with the openess and creativity in one’s own mind as to do with the behavior of another.

Women may wish to test the prospective creativity of the mind of the man she may choose to have sex with, to assess the quality of the sex they might have together.

A wise and maturer man may choose to do the same even if he feels that immediate tug of chemistry.

Again much depends on objectives, stage of life, skill set and experience.

Alison

What Makes a Man Attractive?

2007-08-18T12:28:00.001-04:00

Was reading Evan Katz's blog and comments on What Makes a Man attractive, and added my own.

After reading his entry and the responses, including my own, I would love to hear directly from you - men and women.

What do you particularly find attractive?

Is it in the particulars of a person - or are there general areas that appeal regardless of the individual?

Can you identify patterns or similarities in the men you are attracted to?

If you are a man- what do YOU think the women in your life find attractive about you?

If you are a woman- what do you agree or disagree with in terms of this post?

You can respond to the statements, mostly emphasized in bold or block quoted.

My response to Evan-

Ok- agreed with Marc, and still feel that it is all unclear or way too simplistic.

Maybe the point is that a man (or woman) who confronts his/her fears, challenges, and blocks to forge ahead with a passion (and what about vision?), is more likely to succeed and gain competency, and so be attractive.

This does seem to be true. Competency and Skills often equate to power. And Power is a powerful aphrodesiac.

However I also hear the woman who found her husband, striving to learn the piano, very ’sexy’.

Maybe there is an attractive quality that comes from dedication, focus, and ability to follow through and grow, regardless of whether it leads to mastery?

Maybe if the partner is not at all interested in the particular arena of mastery of the man - there would be NO appeal.

Maybe it is the attention and care a man demonstrates in managing his business, art, or other, that appeals to a woman who might feel he could then attend to her as well?

Looking further back to this prescription for ‘attractive’:
“You have to be cocky. You have to have a sense of humor. You have to keep her off-balance by putting her down and showing her you’re in control. ”

These are also too simplistic and the last statement disturbs me.

I do not think it is necessarily true. I wonder about the value of these advisors and the interpretations of men listening.

Cocky in a way that exudes confidence - yes
Cocky in a way that is arrogant and self-centered- not to a mature woman

Humor in a way that is teasing, fun, and enlightening- yes
Humor that shows negativity and comes from a hurt place, that tends to sarcasm and may be mean and hurtful- No to a healthy listener

Off-balance in a way that she is surprised and cannot put the man in a category to shelve and forget,so she wishes to know and experience more- yes

Off-balance in a way that is so unpredictable and unaccountable, or indicates possibilities of mental illness (or results from the man being a liar-gambler-cheat)- No

Putting her down or showing you are in control- NO
I do not think putting ANYONE down is positive or really necessary to enhance one’s appeal.

To challenge someone to grow, to take charge and lead in an adventure (sexual or other) can be VERY appealing.

(and this can go both ways)

The NEED to control and demean (or put down) comes from insecurity and often a lack of SELF-CONTROL, awareness, and compassion.

This is NOT appealing to a mature woman (or man)

Curious to hear responses-

I think it is important for Evan and readers to realize that the ideas here are presented as observations, some with research to back, and some really coming out of the writer’s own preferences.

We are not all the same and these preferences vary, even for the same person, with time/age/experience. That is the beauty.

Alison

P.S. Passion is good of course.

I think most would assume that someone exuding passion in one area is capable of being passionate in others (like in bed...)

What's not to like about that?

Dating and Relationship Discussions

2007-08-18T12:02:00.000-04:00

Ok,

Many of my friends know of my interest in the subject of male/female relationships and gender differences. This comes from both my own struggles within marriage, post-divorce, as a mother of both a son and daughter, and as a woman who has been dating in mid-life. It also comes from trying to understand the confusing dynamics of my own family, as well as my friend's families, that I witnessed growing up. It even comes from observations of office gender politics.

As I work on computers and have access to the internet I have read many advice columns, research articles, and done my own investigation via internet dating services. I was a psychology major in college, have read numerous books, participated in therapy, and had many discussions with both men and women on this topic.

I am still formulating insights and finding where they resonate with others in the field (both as consultants or participants). As I test some of the 'theories' out and try some suggestions I may choose to share the thoughts and results here, in newspapers, books, and with others via their blogs.

Following this post will be others pointing to some of my comments and reflections on particular topics.

I hope to bring some of these ideas and insights to this site for further dialogue and comments.

Sidebar - so far I seem to be successfully engaging with a new potential partner and have developed deeper satisfying friendships with men. This may indicate I have learned something useful :)

Are You Zippy?

2007-08-15T11:20:00.001-04:00

In honor of John Robison's 50th birthday, the upcoming publishing of his first book and memoir Look Me in the Eye, our long term friendship, and survival of adversity (and kids) - I wrote this piece.

Are you Zippy?
photo by Ian Adams

The value of having a really good ‘Aspergian’ friend when clinically depressed

I barely could get up each day, let alone smile, for about 3 years. Needless to say these were three years of living hell. Why John remained my friend was somewhat beyond me, yet he wasn’t affected, as others were, by my lingering depression.

He was steadfast and a bit curious.

When he would call up, as he did regularly, he would ask, “Are you Zippy today?”

Mostly I’d have to honestly answer,“No.”

Yet John would ask me out to dine at a casual or fancy local restaurant, offer me an opportunity to ride in one of his favorite luxury vehicles, or take me on a river jaunt in his boat.

I was grateful for these invitations as they at least got me out and gave me a break from having to make decisions for myself, my family, or home. I could feel cared for and protected. I never felt obligated to have to be other than whom I was, or emotionally where I was. I could hope that one of these outings might suddenly shift my neuro-chemical imbalance so I could again be ‘Zippy’.

John and I first met when he offered to take my daughter Mariel to the Big E with her best friend Danielle, who was also a good friend to his son Jack. I think they were about 8 or 9. I did not know of Jack’s more descriptive nickname- ‘Cubby’ - yet he seemed like a cool young kid and the three children had fun on the roller coasters and Ferris wheels of the fair. Danielle’s dad Mike and I got to go along too, and act like big kids.

I welcomed anything that might bring joy back into my life such as wind blowing my hair along with the wild screams and laughter of kids on the coaster. It didn’t work for the longer term, but did in the immediate moment. John eagerly captured this with his camera, so at least I could have a chance to enjoy it as a memory sparked by his clear and crisp images.

John was the official photographer for the fair and able to get us in free. Free was good as I was anxious with an extraordinary fear of financial devastation. When one can hardly make it into work, or out of bed, one doesn’t feel confident of making it to retirement. I believed I would not make it to age 50, and I feared for the future of my family.

Over several days we returned to West Springfield to eat, to ride, and hear music. John arranged it so that the kids could see the featured acts, and my daughter was drawn up on stage to delight in being serenaded in the spotlight.

I found myself growing more appreciative of John. Mike had been my friend for many years, and though we shared numerous close moments with our daughters, he was not nearly so accepting, generous, nor as easy and reliable to be around.

One thing I did notice, however, was that when Mike and I attempted to be funny - to crack jokes and share ironic insights - John seemed pretty deadpan in response. For me, humor, even attempts at it, seemed essential to my survival. Though I could not smile easily, I knew I should. My intellect told me so. And I wondered why John seemed so serious. He was not, after all, depressed, and he was not at all stupid.

“What was he?”

It was not until years later that we first talked about Asperger’s. I just accepted that John was a bit odd. But compared to the multitude of uncompassionate people I met, who avoided and were mean to me in my days of desperation (the ones who were insecure, weak, careless, self-centered, liars, or afraid), John was amazing. He was perfect. A perfect friend.

I found out about John and Asperger’s after he visited me at home to tell me about the best seller “Running with Scissors”. I had heard some buzz about the book on the radio and was curious as I knew that my less than fully functional background and, of course, present, seemed to pale against the early life of the author, Augustan Burroughs.

I wanted to hear stories of anyone that managed to survive adversity. I wanted to hear that maybe I could. I wanted to see if I could ‘feel’ anything in empathy.

I listened to John, realizing he was more animated and personal than I had ever experienced him, and that increased my curiosity. When he told me Augustan was his brother I knew I had to read the book, and as soon as possible I did.

I recall my jaw dropping as I tore through the text. I had had no clue about the strange scenario that surrounded the development of my friend. The John I had known seemed relatively ‘normal’, although he was somewhat affectless.

I wondered, “Did this book truthfully describe his background and family life?”

Though John was barely mentioned, the book referred to his travels on the road in the music scene, and that he was diagnosed with Asperger’s. A light bulb went on. (Still no smiles). I could not wait to talk more with him.

Maris, my sister’s daughter, my daughter’s cousin, was originally diagnosed with Asperger’s and eventually considered a high-functioning autistic child. I had learned a bit about Asperger’s and autism from my sister, research and reading, and from my direct experience. As a former psychology major I had a framework of developmental and abnormal psychology to strengthen my understanding.

I told John about Maris, who was an extremely sensitive child since birth, and also did not ‘get’ affect. She did at times laugh, often tickled by her own weird sense of humor expressed through bizarre sequences of words, imagery, or actions. She was very musical and extremely brilliant. Anything that caught her interest she would hyper-focus on and learn all there was to know about it; clarinets, water spouts, prop planes.

I reflected that John seemed to have great expertise in many areas, an encyclopedic knowledge of cars, audio effects, pyrotechnics, and was adept at working many machines. He seemed fairly confident and competent in business. He was analytical and matter-of-fact. But John’s comfort level in personal relationships was less. He had a few strange mannerisms, difficulty focusing on people’s faces and eyes, often a monotone vocal delivery, and habitual expressions.

Yes, the profile seemed to fit.

Our friendship shifted. We began to talk of the mind, its mysteries, and Asperger’s, autism, and depression. We began to share more about our backgrounds and find ways to compare the scenes and experiences of each other’s past and present toward clarifying our own states of mind or emotions to each other.

I still called on John to help me if my basement flooded or if my lawn needed a rescue raking or mowing. He and Jack, now known as ‘Cubby’, would come over with their machines and I would offer comradeship and conversation to my officially labeled ‘Aspergian’ friend. John would listen long to my tales of depression and drugs, and later men and dating, and ask many direct and innocent questions to try to gain a clue about a world – a web of people and emotions - that mostly eluded him.

I suppose I may have entertained him.

Jack and my daughter Mariel also continued a casual friendship, especially when Cubby transferred into her school.

But the bond between John and I grew stronger as we both learned more about what made us ‘odd’, outsiders to society because our behavior did not fit the norm or the preferred. He saw me through many trials of medication that made me ill, nauseous, anxious, and even suicidal. Although he did not seem to have the capacity to really ‘feel’ what I might be experiencing, John was indeed concerned.

He’d call, “Are you zippy today…yet?”

One day I finally got a boost from some medication I was prescribed. I had been about to give up, worn down by the hit-and-miss practice of psychiatrists. They threw scripts at me, with a few warnings of side effects, and could only make tentative guesses at what was wrong based on other patients and standard case studies. They had little data about my particular body/mind make-up to guide them.

Though better than the ‘Santa Claus’ Augustan wrote about, my last doctor was as ineffective in bringing me back to normalcy as ‘Santa’ was with John’s mother. Luckily I was a bit less ‘crazy’. With a strong will and lots of research I persevered in my own healing. I was able to consider professional suggestions and had a few friends who stood by me, gave me perspective, solace, and helped me practically - especially John.

Still after a short hospital stay resulting from a suicidal state triggered by a trial of Paxil, I was at my wits end. A doctor there suggested electro-convulsive therapy- shock therapy or Effexor XR, a slow release form. The SSRIs like Paxil, Zoloft, and Prozac, made me ill to the point of nausea and dehydration from vomiting. I’d get overwhelmed with anxiety, and had intense thoughts that death would be a relief, though I would not take my own.

There was no way I wished to undergo ECT and perhaps lose the little memory I seemed to retain throughout the depression. I did not want to tamper with my brain or have my body restrained, shocked, exhausted any more than it already was.

I had been looking into the possibility of a brain scan to try to get a deeper picture of the neuro-chemical workings of my mind, which was suggested by my sister in California. I was preparing to fund my own trip to a clinic near her. Armed with this knowledge, the thought (and hope) was that we could more carefully target medication and minimize the long trials and severe side effects.

But I decided to give meds one last shot. I did my research and knew Effexor also worked on norepinephrine as well as serotonin receptors.

Finally, on Effexor XR, even with an as-yet-to be-adjusted dose, I was able to once again feel……yes, ‘Zippy’.

In fact at first I was so ‘Zippy’ I could not sleep much. My mind raced with creative thoughts. Yet I was able to focus and function, once again, without feeling that an underwater monster was pulling at my feet and trying to drown me – at every moment.

John was there when I began to smile and laugh again, almost 3 years since my descent into depression. He may not have gotten the humor which provoked the smile or laugh, but he noted it and accepted me still.

As more years passed, we still went to dinner, rode in his cars (Mariel particularly liked the Mini-Cooper), and hung with Jack.

I helped him now with decisions during the building and decorating of his new Amherst home and writing drafts of his book. I answered questions he had about relating to his wife and Jack (his ‘Subjects’) and others. Now that I understood his social challenges I felt more comfortable accepting his help with any of my own issues.

We have remained friends. One day when Mari, John, and I were dining at the Amherst Brewery, one of our favorite quick hangs, he told us about his Southern heritage. During a moment of reflection over some strange recollection he burst into a broad grin and sort of a laugh.

“Woof,” he said.

John often said “Woof” when he seemed to run out of words or did not know what to say, but it was the smile and laugh that we noticed.

I realized how unique this moment was. Smiling and laughing myself, I reveled in the fact that we both could express and feel ‘Zippy’.

My Trip to Portugal

2007-08-08T16:17:00.001-04:00

Bom Dia,

I am finally recovering from jet lag from our return from Portugal on July 27. I know it is a long time time to take to recover, and maybe it is more that I am still lingering in the memories of one of the most amazing vacations of my life.

Carlos invited me to visit with him in his country, and though it was high season and I only had one week to spare, I jumped on the invitation ( and him ).

We left from Newark after a mad rush to see Ian and family at his opening in Chelsea. every moment was an adventure. I am working on recalling and recreating the exact itinerary.

As Carlos planned this from start to finish, I got to go along and just ENJOY! What a treat, and so special from the first day on. We briefly stopped in Lisbon to see his street of origin after driving under the amazing aqueduct, dropped off stuff in his parent's apt, and then headed up past Peniche to Baleal,a fishing village on the ocean. There were flowers waiting for me in the room in the quaint bed and breakfast he had booked with views of rocks, ocean, a Spanish style- well actually - an old Portuguese church, boats and beach.

Very romantic. We glowed probably as much as the sand, rocks, and homes in the bright coastal light of late afternoon.

From there we visited Peniche for seafood dinner and Obidos for a night of medieval festivities in a medieval walled town. Carlos had chosen my clothes to match his for this surprise trip. ( I knew nothing until we arrived). We had Ginjinha, a cherry liquor, in chocolate cups, and other treats with cappucinos for desert. Having had dinner we had to pass on the roasted grilled boar and rabbits that were prepared old style. Celtic music was played by period actors and musicians. Ghosts and ghouls jumped out to surprise us as we walked among the castle walls. We returned the next day to enjoy more streets, crafts, and colors of Obidos.

Then we headed to visit and stay with Carlos' parents in their beautiful well appointed home overlooking the ocean, in Praia Azul, closer to Lisbon. Carlos was so excited he jumped out of the car to run to the back patio and entrance to greet his folks. We had rushed to make it for 7 PM and dinner. I tried to stop him, to bring our bags and gifts in, but then followed and was immediately hugged and led by his mother, Carmina, to tour the home. From the upstairs bedroom I looked onto the street only to see Moishe, Carlos' dad, gesturing and pointing. Where was the car? Carlos had forgotten to put the break on! The standard cars had an unusual brake and not something Carlos was used to. I guess the excitement also played a part, and maybe I was a bit of a distraction....

The car had rolled into a neighbor's entrance wall and door with some damage to both the bumper and the wall. We cringed as we had not taken insurance, hoping the credit card would cover any accidents (which we hoped not to have). I was worried that this would become very costly for Carlos who was being so generous. Carlos' aunt and uncle were also over for dinner and all agreed that we should not let it interfere with what started out to be so beautiful. And so, after a shower in the beautiful tiled bathroom, we quickly put it aside over an amazing meal of grilled grouper and vegetables with special homemade deserts. We then enjoyed the sunset and a good sleep (or some sleep and lots of good). Breakfast the next day included Carlos' other aunt (both Moishe's sisters) and his cousin, who had brought pastais de natas (little custard tarts)- so incredibly delicious. Here is a family portrait.

As the week unfolded we went to Tomar - another medieval town (History includes many more centuries than the four or so we focus on in the US. Here there are remnants from centuries of Moorish rule, the Jewish presence in the 1400s, the takeover by the Templars, and then the numerous Portuguese kings and Christian influences. The architecture reveals layers, Moorish, Manueline style (16th century), and including Roman influence as well.

We visited the towns and beach , Santa Rita, where Carlos spent time with his grandfather, we went to Sintra - another amazing medieval town with wonderful winding cobblestone streets and homes and with numerous palaces -both of the Moors and Medieval fantasy, quintas, and gardens.

To top that day off Carlos took me to a seaside restaurant in Azenhas, nestled in the cliffs and overlooking a wild and brilliant sea. 10 foot waves crashed against rocky cliffs. We dined with the finest smooth white wine of the Colares region perfectly accompanying our seafood and sunset. Need I say more?

Back in Lisbon on Thursday we then tried to find a tango dance in a building by the seaport. It seemed the place was closed and so we resorted to some food in a hip bar restaurant with a Brazilian waitress. The place was lively, one amongst the strip of clubs and hangs by the port. The lights of the bridges and boats (and even the Electric statue of Christ) added to the romance and picturesque evening, though we would have loved to dance too.

Finally we then headed South towards the Algarve, where the Atlantic meets the Mediteranean. We passed by typcial homes of the Alentejo region, ranches, Eucalyptus and cork, and windmills, and stopped in another fishing village for lunch with Octopus salad and steak - I think in Vila Nova De Milfontes. Then we went on past Aljezur and safari sites,to the town, Arrifana, where Carlos has land.

Coming up on on his property, Carlos mentioned that he feared the homes next door had dumped their debris on the land, and sure enough as we approached we saw tons of construction waste spread all over. There was a bulldozer and a man sleepily hanging in it. Carlos harshly approached to question him as to what he was doing on his land. The man called over a builder from the nearby apartment complex that was being put up and which would block some of the view. After some back and forth - this is my land / this is not your land - in Portuguese it became evident that indeed it was NOT Carlos' land! Laughing and relieved, we then scouted a few homes up the road and found his site. The view was unobstructed and the two lovely homes nearby were inspiring me to imagine one that could eventually be built. I fantasized that I might be one to help design and decorate it.

We then relaxed on the beautiful surfing beach below, Carlos diving like a dolphin in the waves. I too went in to be refreshed by the waters which were not quite warm, but wonderful. The views from a lookout up above the beach also were spectacular and the ecology, archeology of the area was explained.

Driving on to Lagos area, we arived at the Romantik Hotel at Porto do Mos. Ths was quite upscale with mostly Swiss German clientele and staff. Carlos, as a true native Portuguese, felt quite proud and privileged to be there and we proceeded to make oursleves at home, much more relaxed than the stiff and stuffy guests who mostly stayed by the pool and restaurant. The foliage was fantastic,as were the bathrooms, and views.

We immediately headed down to the beach to swim and spent a wonderful two days exploring the beaches, rocks,lagoons, at places like Ponte de Piedade. Lagos at night was also lively and Carlos met up with his friend doing tatoos on the cobblestone streets for tourists. He pointed us to a street with good restaurants and we again had an amazing meal- fish stew of some sort and good wine (of course).

In fact most of our meals were fabulous and it was good that we got to work them off during the day time walks, swims, and at night :).

Our final day we spent time doing video on the beach- my beach dance, and enjoying the rocks, sand, and half naked selves. Then we began traveling towards Faro, and took a ferry to the island of Armona for a lazy few hours on a soft and sandy beach with quieter and warmer waters. It would have been nice to stay a few days and just chill here in some small cozy beach cottage. Unfortunately we had to head back to Lisbon.

Finally, about to turn off the road to head north on the highway, Carlos suddenly asked if I could find his envelope with some Euros. After a few tense moments while I looked, we then panicked as Carlos realized he had left it in the safe of the hotel. Beginning to think I maybe had hooked up with a true absent minded professor, or that I was a way too distracting influence, I too had to breathe and then help think out the situation. It was yet another challenge to remain calm and caring. I had to ask Carlos to slow down as we headed back to the hotel, but we made it.

Luck was with us however and the envelope was there! We then had a drink on the veranda, taking in the view at dusk once more and laughed and laughed. Making it through the week with a few upsets and lots of humor, we were still liking and loving each other.

We made it back to Lisbon around 10:30 to quickly shower and then meet Carlos' friend to give him some computer equipment from the states (Apple). Better late than never- and set off to enjoy one more night in town. Climbing the cobblestone streets in a bohemian section, past tables of evening diners spread right across the street, turning down offers of various drugs by various ethnic visitors and residents, and past more young revelers, we made it to a restaurant to hear Fado music, at my request.

The food was not the best but the music was amazing, very soulful, with 2 male singers and one gypsy like female accompanied by acoustic string instruments, a Portuguese guitar, and even a bass. High on the green wine (verde) we shared, we then headed down the hill, past unique elevators that bring people up and down. Passing a group of men with instruments, dressed in black shirts with sashes, we asked where they were from. They said Salamanca, which is in Spain. Carlos then asked them to play for us and they did! . Serenaded with sweet sounds of these wandering minstrels, half high, and very happy, Carlos and I moved into a slow tango and close embrace. One commented- Ah tango, and then another said in Spanish that it was wonderful to celebrate such love.

Indeed it was. Straight out of a movie it all seemed. A perfectly magical way to end our trip.

And the bonus was, in the morning when we returned the car to the rental place, they missed seeing the dents which were all together hidden under the mud and bug splatter!

Blessed with this good fortune and each other we shopped a bit in the airport (with strange ceilings), boarded, and headed home exhausted after long lines passing through various levels of security and a 7 hour flight.

Home at last- and we still like each other, though I snipped at Carlos as we lost our way trying to get over the Hudson on Bear Mt Bridge (I did not want to take a ferry). Making it over, we did cool out and get to enjoy more views

Finally we landed up at Hunn's Lake to visit with Susan, Richard, and family, and avoid traveling through the thunderstorms.

Summer Storm July 2007

2007-07-15T21:15:00.000-04:00

what a Storm!
Came home today to dismantle Ian's old shed that he put together with scrap material when he was about 8 1/2 (summer of 1994) when we built an addition on our home.

As I approached the skies were darkening and a storm seemed imminent. Bruce came over to take down a canopy we had on my deck to provide cover during Mariel's 17th birthday party. It rained then too but nothing major.

Just got the canopy wrapped up when the clouds let loose with dramatic lightening and thunder. We stood by the living room window as watched the sidways gusts of wind and rain when we heard a huge crack. I thought it was lightening that stuck in the yard, but then soon after we witnessed the Willow in Daphne's yard split apart and fall in 2 main pieces across my yard.

Photos are here.

One large limb stripped the side of the ornamental Cherry and covered my newly cleared and orderly flowerbed. The other limb with two large branches spread around the blue spruce toward the back of the yard and covered the old garden area.

We were awe-struck and stared at the destruction while hail and rain continued to pour down.

During the lull before the next line of storms passed through Bruce, I, Scott, and Daphne went out to survey the damage.

Later Bruce did finally demolish Ian's old shed and we sprayed the last remaining carpenter ants who were actively feeding their larvae (ugh) -

We never could get to clearing away some of the Willow- a big project now for Bruce.

A dramatic summer day - and it reminded me of the major rain that came in July 1994 while our roof was off and a only a tarp covered the home. That day a hole in the tarp did allow for some leaks all the way through the wood living room floor. We had to get the water out as quickly as possible so the oak floor would not warp too much.

Mariel is on a Whirl

2007-07-13T10:41:00.000-04:00

Well, just thought I'd post a bit of news about my budding young daughter:

Also check out the Amherst Bulletin

Mariel and I spent about 10 days in Canada - dancing, touring colleges, and hanging at the Montreal jazz festival.

We went to the Canada Day Lindy Exchange in Ottawa and you can see some photos here. There were 150 dancers mostly from Canada and many were friends we have grown from swing camps like Swing Out New Hampshire, Beantown and from other dance national /international dance events. We worked on our French accents and adding 'Eh' to our sentences.

Back in Montreal we stayed in my friend Susan's apartment that she bought for her daughter Ali who is going to McGill. They rent to students, but between summer subletters we were able to find some bed and couch space to crash. The location was fantastic in the McGill 'ghetto' area and near my favorite area 'The Plateau' and close to the Jazz fest. It also was close to Concordia which we checked out.

Our photos are here.

We met up with Carlos, his parents from Portugal, and his 10 year old son. We all would meet for dinner, or crepes and ice cream, some music, and entertainment at the festival, some bagels at the famous place on St. Viateur, and a visit to St. Joseph's Oratorio.

This was a highlight with an exhibit of over 200 nativity scenes, Crèches , made from materials that even ranged from dried fruit, chocolate, abalone shells, shells, various stones, wood, grass, and that encompassed many styles from numerous cultures around the world. If we could focus on creating and sharing more art (and music and dance) I think we would have peace and a richer heritage that all humans could share.

It was wonderful to play so much and take in the joy of the festival. I also got to tango at Mocha Jo's and Studio Tango in Old Montreal. We met up with my friend Phillip from Vt who is living there for the summer. It was good to dance again, including some hot salsa. Montréal est merveilleux!

I will also try to post and link to our videos soon.

The other wonderful part was enjoying a sense of being part of an extended family. Nurturing and joyful.

Now Mariel is off at a fabulous modern dance program - Summer Stages Dance - where she studied and performed last summer.

This year Mariel has a work/study scholarship and last evening I shot out to Concord to see the first performance of their summer series (and drop off misc items such as heating pads, ice packs, laundry detergent, room deoderizer, ace bandages, etc.) We both enjoyed the innovative and impressive dancing of Chris Elam and his company.

I got to hob nob with an old dance colleague Teri Weksler whom I hadn't seen in 30+ years. It was great to name drop and gossip- and feel warmer and less competitive in comparing our family experiences. There just wasn't enough time to catch up (or complain about our teens - and brag!)

Mariel will perform on Saturday July 28th as part of the young choreographers showcase.

I will be coming back from Portugal with Carlos on the 27th and will shoot out to see this of course and the final Summer Stages event.

Hope some will join us!

Love and warmth (ok- not too much) Stay cool!
Alison

Online Dating and Midlife Misc

2007-07-11T10:26:00.000-04:00

Well,

After so many years of varied wonderful and strange experiences, and personal research on the dating scene (much of it via online sites as I work on computers daily), I have met an amazing soul that seems suitably matched.

And yes, partly we were able to make contact via an online dating site, though I had first sighted him at the gym, and we would have met via dancing and musical interests sooner or later.

I may write more about this lovely budding story, but meanwhile am enjoying it's creation.

Still I do want to say I continue to be fascinated by male/female relationships, dating challenges, and gender differences and communication, and I am working on my own story/book to build on the articles I have already published that have generated encouraging responses, such as:

Single women over 50 face challenges, Dating Boomers can be unrealistic,
and Why Women don't want 'Nice' men

(none of which are my original titles by the way...)

Meanwhile I enjoy reading other 'Expert' advice - some which may not be so expert or experienced- some very perceptive and supportive of my own ideas and insights.

You can follow Evan Katz's blog entry on the question Why Does He Put Me On His Favorites List And Never Write To Me? which include my and other readers' responses.

Ciao,
Alison

Son's Photo of Me in NY Gallery Show in July

2007-05-30T12:13:00.000-04:00

My son Ian wrote

oh it appears a picture of you will be in a new york gallery, by the way!

My First Print in a Manhatten Gallery Show! July 19th

The exhibit for Image 07 will take place Thursday, July 19th 2007

from 6pm-9pm at: Gallery FCB
16 West 23rd Street, 3rd Floor New York, NY 10016

I hope you will come and say hi to me there, especially since I'll have just arrived in new york the week before.

View the winner gallery online

Let's have a long beautiful summer together, new york city!

Note: This is not my favorite photo- but the lighting and mood is interesting-

...."OK, I'm standing here- so come on Ian- take the photo already!"

More Writings

2007-05-18T16:17:00.000-04:00

My Hunter High School reunion piece was finally printed with some typos/edit issues -see page 11 of the PDF.

Also - I started an intro for one possible book on 'mating' in middle age- May post more soon with survey questions for my 'research' and to check out my assumptions and presumptions.

How well can we (men and women) match- is it different in middle-age? (This is not a history project- not a focus on the Middle Ages)

Anyway got the bulk of my web site up for an Educational Web development class. I will propose a Dance Hub for real to the schools, or town - or just host it myself-

My UMASS personal web site.

Enjoy- Spring is here
Alison

I Was A Little Chicken

2007-05-15T10:27:00.001-04:00

Well,

Mother’s Day has come and gone- and spring certainly seems like it has established a steady stance. Looking towards Father’s Day…
This weekend I received this announcement:

My contribution of a ‘letter’ to my own father - a birth reflection- will appear in a book to be released in June:

Letters to Fathers from Daughters (Paperback)by Sharon Alworth (Author), Bonnie Birnam (Author) - You can order it via Amazon:

Book Description: A touching, inspiring, and ultimately healing book of writings from real people. Composed of letters and poems that depict brief snapshots of women’s relationships with their fathers with an overall tone of gratitude, or of valuable lessons learned, often despite difficult circumstances.

I am excited- and pleased-

My Piece, “I Was a Little Chicken”, is a reflection and reworking of a birth memory. Still emerging as a person, creator, and writer - I welcome this opportunity to share myself and thoughts with a larger world.

I always found it fascinating that my last name is Ozer. It can mean ‘healer/helper’ in Hebrew. Ozersky is ‘of the lake’ in Russian.

I do hope my work/contributions in the world will have some depth and facilitate healing and growth.

Alison