Stacy Horn's Blog, page 195

Wish I was Smarter and More Educated

So I could follow this debate about biology and evolution. It begins with a negative review by Richard Dawkins about a new book by Edward Wilson. Skip the review I say—or not, Dawkins is just such a jerk, even if he has a worthwhile point I can always read the same point from someone else. Go right to the comments.

In another direction, look at this gift this father gave his daughter for her graduation. That has to be the best idea of all time for a graduation gift.

I may have told this story before, but when I graduated high school I used the Freedom of Information Act to see all the records in my files. I had a long history of getting into trouble and I expected to see a lot of, “Will end up in jail one day,” or, “I’m just praying for the day she graduates.” I wasn’t a bad kid, but I was an independent, wild kid, and I had to try everything at least once (use your imagination) and question everything, and I went through a bad patch of acting out in junior high.

But inside my records, they praised the very traits they always tried to discourage, ie, “she’s strong-willed, determined.” On the one hand, it was a nice way of saying “she’s a pain in the ass,” but still. What shocked me the most was how many said I was funny and had a good sense of humor. There was a kindness and appreciation there that they almost never showed me in person. I think I was 19 when I read all this and up until then I hadn’t gotten a lot of encouragement from my family or my teachers. Perhaps because I seemed like I didn’t need it. But of course I did, and reading their words had a profound effect on me. The big one being the realization that you can never be sure what people are thinking about you!

Now I have to decide what to do with my day. Take it easy or drum in the parade? My author photo is due tomorrow, so I guess I’ll start with that! I wish I had gotten a better night’s sleep.

I took his coming home from picking up my camera. If this was a movie instead of a still you would hear the booming, pounding music coming from this car. I wonder what that is about, the need to put on such an audio display?

Christopher Street Before …

The picture below is looking west on Christopher from Hudson Street. All the barricades are up in preparation for the big Gay Pride Parade tomorrow. This time tomorrow it will be an absolute mob-scene of celebration and partying. My band drums in it every year and it’s one of the most fun things we do. But every year I agonize about whether or not I want to go. It’s always so hot! I’ll bet if I search my blog using the words “Gay Pride” I’ll find a post like this for every summer. Alright, now I’m curious … well, I only found two!

2011

“I woke up to learn that New York had passed the gay marriage bill … Looks like I really must join my band Manhattan Samba and drum in the Gay Pride Parade this year (it’s tomorrow). I usually do, but it’s a marathon thing and I’m getting old! Hours and hours of drumming in the blazing heat (usually).”

2008

“My band, Manhattan Samba, always does the Gay Pride parade every year. I almost didn’t go this year because it was so oppressively hot. Thank God I did because this year there was a torrential downpour. It was so thick and hard and freezing cold at first, and you’d think that would have felt great, but it was shocking, like when you first jump into a cold pool … once I got over the cold and the stinging, and surrendered to being completely drenched, it was positively ecstatic. It is just so completely liberating. Nothing matters, only joy.”

The receptionist at my vet was raving and raving about the Path Cafe place you can see on the right. He said the food was amazing, and affordable, and that the young couple who run it are the nicest people in the world.

Good News! Bad News!

The repair place called: your camera is ready. I ran crosstown to pick it up, but the battery I had with me was dead, so I had to run home, recharge it, and it was at this point that I noticed that I didn’t have my earrings on.

I’d taken them off to swim this morning, and somewhere between the pool and home they were lost. I ran to the pool, asked if anyone had turned them in. No. Checked the locker room, not there. These are one of the pairs of earrings Nora made and sent me. I’m sick with grief. It’s always good news/bad news. I can only hope that someone found them and is now loving them as much as I did.

I took a few shots before a major storm hit. This is Hudson Street, on my way to the city pool to look for my earrings. Notice the different levels of outwear. We’re in a heatwave. The girl in orange is dressed accordingly. I don’t get the girl in the cardigan and I really don’t get the woman who is wearing what looks like a heavy jacket!

This is the garden at St. Lukes, which is a half a block up and across the street from the previous shot. It’s a lovely place to sit and read.

And this is me turning the corner for home, totally dejected about the earrings and just before the storm hit. It’s thundering now, as I type this.

What can I do to make someone cry?

Betsy sent this link to me: Pictures That Will Restore Your Faith in Humanity.

I loved them all, two made me cry (and they weren’t one involving animals, surprisingly). It made me want to do something so kind it made others cry. My new goal! Make people cry.

A picture from April. I was walking down the west side, along the Hudson River, taking “before” pictures of One World Trade Center. This was one of the rejects, but it has a dog in it.

Philip Glass Open Sing in Times Square

Or, what I am now referring to it as: Another Great Thing I Won’t Have My Camera For. NPR commissioned a piece from Philip Glass, in honor of his 75th birthday. Anyone who wants to is invited to come sing it in Times Square, this Thursday, at 6:30 p.m. Details here.

I’m going, and my friend who is going with me is very nervously allowing me to borrow his camera to take a few shots. I suspect he might change his mind. If I had my camera I’d be taking tons of shows and movies. Damnit to the infinity power.

This is a dramatic recreation of me practicing. (Nora, those are one of the pairs of earrings you sent me! I love them all, but these are great every day earrings.)

I Think My Brain is Shrinking

I feel like a part of my mind is lying dormant while I wait for my camera to be repaired. Also, I just read a pile of new articles about music and the brain, and clearly others parts of my brain aren’t getting as much use while my choir is on hiatus.

I took the shot below while in Boston researching composers Randall Thompson and Francis Boott. Every time I go to Boston I have to walk around Cambridge and Harvard Yard, visiting all my old haunts and the places where I once lived. It’s a nostalgia-wallowing thing that I have always done. This motorcycle was parked in front of my old apartment.

In case you’re having trouble reading what the note says, it reads:

F _ _ _ K you!

Meter Maid!

Because of your incomp-

etance at placing

tickets, I got 2 tickets

on my bike w/o knowing

of the first! Please

ask to be retrained!

It’s pretty well-mannered for an angry note. It would have been nice if there’d been a scribbled in, “I’m sorry,” in a different hand writing.

Happier Camera Days

A fun night from my past. I was the moderator for a panel at the 92nd Street Y about the paranormal. I asked and fielded questions for Dan Aykroyd and his father Peter, who had just written “History of Ghosts: The true story of seances, mediums, ghosts and ghostbusters.”

Okay, not my best camera work, but still!! Ghostbusters!!

Jealousy and Envy

Honestly, it’s not something I normally feel. The last time I felt jealousy in a serious way, that I can remember, was when I was thirty years old, and someone I went to high school with had just published her first novel. That got me. Then I read it and things got so much worse. It was this wonderful, evocative, luscious, brilliant work. I felt just sick.

But I spent a week or so meditating on it, and I came to terms with what I felt, and I was able to both neutralize the feelings, and turn them into inspiration. I didn’t deny my feelings, sometimes people have something you want, or achieve something you’d like to achieve. It’s hard to explain, but I embraced them in a friendlier way. I looked at what I had and what I’d done, compared it realistically to the rest of the world, and then I took steps toward achieving what I wanted to achieve. Slowly, over time, I stopped feeling jealousy for the most part. It was very liberating.

Last night an NYPD helicopter was circling right over my block, coming closer than I’d ever seen a helicopter come before. People on Facebook reminded me that Obama was in my neighborhood having dinner at Sarah Jessica Parker’s house. I have to be honest, I felt a wave of envy. As that helicopter circled overhead, shining lights over the roofs (looking for snipers?) I desperately wanted to have a fabulous apartment and Sarah Jessica Parker’s wardrobe, and to not have to think about things like how much all this medication for my cat is costing me. I wanted the kind of fairytale life where a Barack Obama would come to my apartment for dinner, and all these magical whirlwinds of activity would start spinning around me as I was just going about, living my life.

I will feel much better when I finish the edits of this book, and if I can get it to a place where I love it. Because, in truth, I am leading exactly the life I have always wanted. I haven’t always been successful at all the things I’ve tried (hence the cat-medical-bills worry) but at least I’m trying, and the game isn’t over yet! I also realize how good I have it in so many ways, like living in the neighborhood I do, even if Barack Obama isn’t coming to my house for dinner. (And what would I feed him anyway? I don’t cook. Amy’s frozen pizza, my favorite dinner? Oh wait, do you think Sarah Jessica Parker is doing the cooking?)

I will also feel a lot better when my freaking camera is repaired and I can go out and photograph things like the president coming to my neighborhood for dinner! I’m not going to get over missing that opportunity for a while, I can tell you. (That’s Buddy giving me head butts above.)

I Didn’t Make it to the Sing

It was one of those days, but I pulled myself together and I was going to head out to The Big Sing and then Buddy didn’t eat dinner. This was followed by other bad signs that I won’t go into, but that was that for me. I couldn’t even watch The Bachelorette.

Buddy had a better day today, but he’s been up and down for weeks. It just unavoidably feels like the beginning of the end. Slowly there will be more downs then ups, then all downs, and then that will be that.

I’m sorry to be so depressing. Finney has been making out like a bandit! In my effort to feed Buddy more, Finney has been able to subsequently sneak more, and so he’s happy. There’s that. And I’m going to try to take the goods days with Buddy while I have them.

Big Sing Tonight – I need my camera back!

I’m going to something called The Big Sing later, and I need my camera, damnit. This event must be documented. I know there are those who say if you’re photographing what you’re doing you’re not really experiencing what you’re doing, but for those of us who love photography, capturing the moment in this way is part of living it.

This is Buddy asking for food (always a good thing these days). It’s an ichat screen grab, all I have these days.

Oh god. They just called this second. They can’t repair my camera and they have to send it to Canon and it will take a few weeks. Alright, that was a hard blow, in the realm of blows that are not really hard blows at all. (A diagnosis of a terminal illness is a real hard blow.) I had planned to do my author photo on Wednesday. At this point my camera won’t even be back before my author photo is due. Damnit, damnit, damnit.

The conductors from the big sing last year: