Tough day

No matter where you were on September 11th, 2001, this is a date carved in to my soul in the memory of the terror and harm visited upon innocent people not too far from the peaceful suburb we call home.  My kids were all 10 and under and aware as best they could be of the dramatic events we witnessed that day. It's a source of heartbreak all around- for the citizens of the world who despise the United States, often justified, and those of us residing here, who are trying to proceed with humanity and grace to live our lives.

Birthdays, anniversaries, dates of loss and remembrance loom for most people as reminders of lives full of events. But 9/11- the shock and horror will never leave me. I hope that those who perished have found comfort in the great beyond and that their family members have found a safe place to express their pain.

March 9th 2026

It's six months to the day since I turned over the keys to our family home of 30 years to a couple eager to make this gracious house their own. Back then I imagined myself on some footloose adventure- all my possessions in storage with no strings to tie me down. Turns out a lack of responsibility confused me. I'm used to attending to the varied demands of family, work and of a nearly 100 year old house and garden so predictably I decided I needed to buy another house to keep me grounded and sane.

Six weeks of house shopping back in the east side suburbs of Cleveland where I grew up led me to buy the house where I sit poised in front of this keyboard to share this update. I am no longer in Sleepy Hollow although somewhere Sleepy Hollow and 3 decades of memories reside deeply within me.

It's hard to imagine how this effort can morph and expand to this new location. For now, without the clarity of how to end 15 plus years of sharing the daily trials and tribulations of life along the Hudson I keep myself occupied with transforming another old house into the home that will sustain us. Wish me luck and good fortune as I wish the same for all of you with appreciation for your caring and attention over the years to this modest effort of mine.

The end and a beginning

Without oversharing, I've made a huge change in my living situation. I sold my home of many years to a couple who wanted the house very much for themselves and their kids (understandable given how much I enjoyed raising my family there) and as a result, everything is in storage as I explore where I want to live next. I'm currently bunking with friends near where I grew up in Ohio and the local housing stock is surprisingly nice and affordable compared to the New York City metro area. I might be staying here a while (well the plan is 2 years) unless it's just too hard to imagine living anywhere else except near the Hudson River. 

Hard to put in to words how it feels to have severed my connection to my home of 3 decades, the garden I loved and the many friends and memories made. Looking forward is the only option and one I hope will fuel me through this new chapter.

Update (it's been a while)

It's been nearly 30 years to the day that I embarked on the adventure of homeownership (I had already been bestowed upon in the parental department with the birth of my first child Max) so I was not a novice at 42 to adulthood and responsibility. By 40 I had worked for many years as a photographer trying to deliver a sufficiently compelling and believable result such that I got paid for my effort and expenses regularly- so I understood what it meant to be reliable. Still, the 360 months spent as steward of this house in this pleasant suburban development along the Hudson River has been the longest ongoing relationship of my life and given that one day soon I intend to sell the house and depart the neighborhood- this chapter will be a part of my history and no longer my present. A very sobering thought!

I am excited at how that will feel. No longer sleeping in a room where two of my kids were conceived, no longer washing dishes at a sink where they took their first baths or when I sit at the kitchen table I remember the countless meals the five of us once took routinely as a family. All of these memories percolate at will and randomly and without the house itself to act as an incubator of the past who knows what will bubble up next.

I can only express gratitude for all the good there was and that we had the inner fortitude to muster what life gives, takes and expects. Sleepy Hollow has allowed me to create, parent, garden, work, recreate and love in ways I could never had imagined when I moved here.

Update and Anxiety

I've stopped contributing much of anything here except to notice if anyone is looking, reading. Given that this entity exists in the virtual realm with neither paywalls or advertising, whatever I thought in the beginning, whatever I thought might or might not happen in doing it, I realized somewhere along the way that I didn't necessarily know why I was combining words with pictures, at times on a regular basis about my life. (Author's note: With this addition, I have posted 948 times.) 

What I was watching, what I was reading, places, entertainments, exhibits I made my way to, what lovely or dark moment transpired in the familial realm. I guess I felt some urgency to put it down in the world of x's, o's and pixels. So much has happened in the years since I began in 2010. My three kids grown and flown, where once every one of their habits and behaviors seemed subject matter for parental concern, now I get mostly breezy text exchanges that require few syllables. I'm okay (well not totally) with that. I'm glad that we are all so independent and cherish that I can keep myself upright mostly on my own steam. Self reliance isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Lately I'm looking for grace in every corner and forgiving others and myself as much as possible. I dread the upcoming election and the ugly words propelled by the orange haired man and his minions. My fervent hope is that Kamala and the Dems win big. That's all that seems to matter right now.

Purpose and Purposelessness

(please note I wrote this post in 2013 and left it in draft until today. My father took the photo of my gloved hands many years ago at my direction. Thanks Dad!)

I'm trying to overlook how boring most photographs are even as each gleams (or not) in its fashion.  There are too many images out there, and if they are not derivative or repetitive then the alternative is that they are often intent on being quirky and odd or descriptive of events extreme to which we bear witness from the security of our insular lives.

I like looking at author less images- the planets, taken from satellites, or from a microscope, or snapshots that someone threw in a drawer and forgot about for years and years. It's too much sometimes- this global relentless universe of picture making and even poignant images can sometimes bore me to tears. I  can't stop wrestling with the endless commodification of life through photography and all that entails.

Sometimes I wonder

 

Sometimes in checking the visit stats (above is for the past 24 hours to this blog) I'll wonder who is looking or reading or clicking through and given that I do no marketing for this effort, how did they find me? Is it random google searches (Sleepy Hollow, curb appeal...) that have brought these visitors to me? Since I commenced in 2010, the life and travels of content, free of a pay wall in the digital sphere, are constant sources of curiosity and amazement. 

And if you find yourself a visitor and willing to share in comments who you are, where you are from and how you found me I would be delighted. 

The Empty Nester is Adjusting

I'm in my first year living on my own- month 7 to be exact- and the solitude is a big adjustment after the decades of family life. Divorce absolutely rearranges the deck chairs and holidays and family events are different with my ex no longer a part of the picture. With the kids launched, everything is fluid and I'm more susceptible than I care to admit to look back rather than anticipate what lays ahead. 

25

 

My youngest turns 25 today and I am in a state of nostalgic time travel. Lucky me. I got to be his mother- to spend those tender years together and watch him grow and thrive while nurturing him the best I could. Nothing in life for me has compared to the journey of this complex relationship we call parenthood. Very grateful for the three young adults who are my kids and ever amazed at how life rushes by no matter how much you long for things to last forever.

A Re-post about Hearts...

...because it's almost Valentine's Day.

 

Friday, April 10, 2015

Potato Love (for Jim Dine)

How many heart shaped potatoes have crossed your path? I know of exactly one and its uniqueness made me tuck it away so that I could examine its potential as a print making device. It was exciting to embrace the serendipity of polish applied to the surface and then transferred in succession to a white board. Nothing like the thrill of the unknown.

(and click here to see some of Jim Dine's iconic heart paintings....)

A Confession (of sorts)

Calling attention to myself is something I do with a fair amount of trepidation. Who am I to share my images, opinions, experiences, feelings? Why should anyone care? Sometimes I wonder if I am some kind of suburban mystic uncovering truths in the grocery aisles or sharing another revery as the sun dips down behind the Hudson. I know I have a fair amount of ability when you put a camera in my hands and I hope I am not boring others to tears as I struggle to find my place as a photographer, artist, and creator in the scheme of things. Anxiety both spurs me on and inhibits me. Best to focus on the work and my must do list in the end.

Mulling

(This was originally written in 2014 and saved in drafts. Wanted to share.)

I've been trying to steer clear of tag sales and thrifting but I succumbed to the lure of a few recent sales
(one of which was held at the same house I wrote about here) and $16 later acquired some interesting items.

If you don't find things like china interesting, you can't stop here.  I had one of those rescue pangs when I looked at the box of Susie Cooper china (marked $6) and knew I had to bring it home. Add in the 4 Christmas dishes at .25 each and I was once again in the thrall of a small piece of history, far from the place and time when it was manufactured. I also found a great throw made in Norway ($5) and a beat-up copy of The Family of Man for $1 (no reason to say anything else). Making one last pass of the garage I saw an ottoman and thought it possibly by Eames for which I bargained to $3 from $5 (because it seemed worth trying due to its present battered condition ). 

At these times, the chance to meander and observe the remains, remnants and discards of another's is a uniquely fascinating activity all its own and I'll leave it at that.

Forever the Precipice

When you are small and fear the monsters that you imagine are waiting under your bed, with luck, there is  a loving adult who shines a light on their non-existence and allays your fears so you can sleep. Life propels your forward through childhood to eventual adulthood with the requisite schooling and relationships, responsibilities, challenges and desires- resulting in the perpetual reality of managing uncertainty and risk. Little is more stress inducing than pregnancy and parenthood and babies who grow up to become teenagers whose actions can be unending sources of concern.

Now as the parent of young adults, the unknown floats up perpetually and in the absence of their presence, I have to have faith that our well being is not precarious and that with luck and our better angels, we will survive to see another day. 

Yet the inner turmoil wrought by worry can easily paralyze me.  Then I'm forced to accept the laundry list of unknowns, press ahead and appreciate that the abyss while ever present has been averted, at least for now.

Valentine's Day

(This post dates from 2011- from the "before times" when my ex and I were still married.) 

I have always loved Valentines day. Not the selling of it- but the opportunity to tell the people I care about how much I love them. Woke to the smell of coffee and in the kitchen found my sweet surprise from James. I'm in no mood for more baubles or chocolates- a little gesture of human kindness can go a long way.

Losses

My brother David and I circa 1970

There have been some notable losses in the pantheon of entertaining greats recently; Betty White, Bob Saget and Dwayne Hickman. I never watched either of Bob Saget's television shows- Full House and America's Funniest Home Videos. At the time I was enmeshed with small children and didn't need more cultural fare that spoke to the perils, pleasures and inanities of family life. But Dwayne Hickman made a huge impression on this child of the 60's. When he broke the fourth wall in Dobie Gillis and spoke to the camera- in the presence of Rodin's "The Thinker", a statue I knew well- I thought the degree of sophistication unparalleled for the wink of the narrator sharing his day to day tribulations of his high school existence.

In that half hour I witnessed an alternate reality of non-conforming with the understanding that I too could go "off script" if needed. Rest in Peace Dwayne Hickman and thank you for taking us all inside Dobie's world of adolescent angst that you created with such humor and grace.

Thankfulness

I began this personal narrative of mine a little over 11 years ago and reading back on my first years reminds me of earlier days where issues of motherhood occupied me with the daily concerns of raising three kids and keeping the whole enterprise of life rolling along. Now that my offspring are young adults themselves, I am in a different point on the continuum where my energies are best directed at obligations of work and self. Still, I reside in the house where three people were raised and two were born and so these walls team with memories of other days. 

On this Thanksgiving I feel grateful for the blessing of stability and well being, loved ones, friends and the grace and good fortune of living in this beautiful part of the world. Wishing you peace, health and optimism wherever life finds you today.

(from the archive) Halloween in the Hollow

When you live in a historic town, its cultural legacy is hard to avoid. This is the area where Washington Irving made his home called Sunnyside and his famous story, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" takes place here. Halloween in Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow is more than an evening of interesting costumes and trick or treaters gathering candy traipsing door to door by the light of carved pumpkins. It is a month long extravaganza of terror inducing hayrides, literary re-enanctments of spooky stories and the spectacles of haunted houses. Yes, it's one big commercial opportunity for local tourism which by October 31st has exhausted the interest of most everyone who lives here. So, when something at all unique is created, it is a treat for me. The members of the Hill and Dale Garden Club of Tarrytown decorated our local Historical Society this year and one of the tombstones was especially poignant and timely. A brief ode of sorts to another legend in a setting meant to inspire.

(I'm reposting this from October 30, 2011 and hope you enjoy!)

R.I.P. dear Comet

Yesterday we received word that our family dog, Comet, who lived with my former husband, passed away. In the spirit of sharing something about this singular creature I am reposting something from 2014. Comet lived for 16 years and had an amazing journey here. He will be missed by all who knew him.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Who do you love?

I'll admit that among the five human members of my family, good will doesn't necessarily abound 24/7. Harmony does happen, it's not a constant atmosphere of discontent by any means. But there is one member of our household whom everyone adores at all times, even when he misbehaves (well, eats someone's sandwich left in a spot conveniently placed for easy access by....him). 

Yes Comet the dog is a reliable source of happiness and companionship- maybe because he's always excited to see whoever walks through the door, is always interested in a belly rub or a scratch behind his ears and finds each of us fascinating, no matter what mundane chore requires our attention. (Okay, he's not really fond of the vacuum cleaner or lawn mower, if truth be told.)

And parentally speaking, it's also nice to have one household member who doesn't require a cell phone plan! 

Not the best day (an entry from the past)

Fighting with my teens is exhausting. If I went away it might be better. That's what I think anyhow. As the years progress I find myself more solitary- less engaged- as though the window that was mine to partake is closing.  That's probably too harsh. I let things come to end. There were a lot of people I just couldn't be friends with anymore. Not that I didn't like the people- I just didn't like the relationship we had created.  It seemed like it hinged on me being pliable, giving, and tolerating. What if you don't want to do that anymore? Someone who is consistently concerned with mostly themselves- how do you fit in? And so if it no longer fits- it had to go. And a lot of people went. Call it my coming of age- albeit a little late in the game. I wasn't even that lonely in my own way in that regard. I couldn't say I didn't feel the loss- I just didn't know how to change the kinds of relationship I was having. I don't want people to drop pointed veiled criticism that way. I don't want to feel that unless I am perfect I am not deserving of love. Maybe that is the crux of the whole matter.
I  had a doozy of a fight with my daughter. My nephew stayed longer than we planned.  It threw off my whole equilibrium. My nephew is sort of unaware of himself in space- leaves dishes laying around, can never push a chair in to the table- or if he does- then I think it is some kind of display designed to show me he is playing by my rules- but thinks they are silly. A little condescension.
My eldest came home from school and has reverted back to childhood. Resents being asked to help. It's just one big fun time all the way around. I know I will make it through. There might be some bumps, some surprises, some setbacks. The kids are children no longer. In principal I know that is a good thing. In principal, even we can't really sit down to a meal together- is that the worst thing that ever has happened?

 I must be a terrible mother. I'll take all the blame if that's the way it needs to be- I am flawed as a mother and a person.
Do I love my children?
Yes, very much.
Who knows how much that matters in the end.

(This is a post that I left as a draft written during the summer 2015.  Negative thinking is clearly one of the talents that I am forced to admit.)

Life (as I know it)

 

I've been otherwise occupied so sharing my inner thoughts on the platform has fallen by the wayside. Everything requires upkeep and attention and if I am distant and flip it's because events have led me to this wary place. There is a shortage of honesty and my faith in human decency has been sorely tested.  

It's all grist for the mill and mostly it all makes me laugh when I am done feeling appalled. Mostly.