What Did She Say?!

What Did She Say?!

      “Farmirios iren alit ku iniit aldbo ang me tu Kolbelei!” the woman screamed at me from behind her parambulator.

      “What?!” I replied, “Do I have fish sauce on my face?”

      “Kiiny tu magda bin changoo la”, she specified.

      “Your baby and I are related? What?” I honestly couldn't make out this complex tongue she was spewing on me and my latte was beginning to get below the optimal temperature.

      “I'm sorry I don't speak that! Try a Starbucks!” I pointed in there perhaps with the faint hope that it might be Sumatra she was speaking and the sight of the coffee blend title would make her feel somewhat more at ease.

      “Chinka hop ling tu stau yong tikaka leek!” She finished me off.

      “Thank you, thanks a lot” and I was on my way to my brand new linguistics class I'm taking at The New School.

      Well that was a spirited encounter, I thought to myself and the 60,000 others listening in. I'll have to have a row with my new instructor the minute I can tell where North is from this particular Starbuck's. Honestly, DO I have fish sauce on my face?

      As soon as I gathered my bearings, I always do, I bumped into another strange woman, this one was pushing a Rik Shaw.

      “Con permiso porfavor, me puedes decir adonde esta la tienda de pescado?” She asked in a hurry.

      “I'm sorry. Can you slow down, I'm from Chile where we speak Spanish like humans. What am I saying? I'm so rude. Porfavor mas lento. Yo soy de Chile, donde hablamos Espanol comos humanos. Gracias”.

      She seemed confused, after all she found herself feeling strangely aroused and insulted at the same time, not to mention the Rik Shaw. She later got a grande latte, extra shot. I got an espresso neat, just to mess with her. Some people waste an entire lifetime behind inanimate objects. It's sad really and even sadder when they don't know it's happening. I chose to lead rather than to follow an object. I chose to lead rather than to push. And I chose to walk with others rather than in front of them.

You'd Better Swing It, Mr. Paganini

Mon, Feb 3, 2014

You'd Better Swing It, Mr. Paganini

Last year in New York there were at least two instances when I thought I was having an out-of-body experience without leaving my actual body. They all had to do with extrasensory perceptions of the environment around me. First there was the time when I found myself walking from Chelsea to the Bronx. Mind you, this wasn't by choice but alas circumstances that day were beyond my control and I wasn't about to jump the turnstiles. I'm not sure how many miles it is from Chelsea to the Bronx but if Manhattan is a thirteen mile island, I would venture to say I walked at least three. As I found myself in Harlem I noticed something very strange begin to happen. I felt as though the sidewalk began swinging. Right to left, left to right. At first I thought it was in my head. I thought I was getting dehydrated perhaps, or just dizzy from exhaustion. But as I'm having these thoughts I noticed other pedestrians around me slowly swerving in front of me. Like following a drunk driver on the highway. We all looked ridiculous of course, not being able to walk a straight line in tandem. Everyone eyed each other but no one said anything. It felt like the big elephant in the middle of the city that nobody wanted to talk about.

      Now I know I spent six years away from New York City, and people told me there had been changes but nobody warned me that the city might start swaying and swinging someday. I wish that had been included in my welcome back packet.

      There were no news reports of strange earthquake like activity (it wasn't an earthquake), and nothing online about the strange phenomenon. Soon I forgot about it and went on with my routine. I did make it home safely that day so no harm done. However, a few months went by and it happened again. This time in the Bronx as I was walking to the store to buy some stemware (that's a joke). This time people reacted more aggressively. I heard a couple in front of me say that they were getting in their car instead of going back in their building because they felt safer there. Again, there were no news reports and nothing mentioned online. So what could this strange phenomenon have been? To this day I haven't been able to find the answer but rest assured that I'll be ready  the next time it happens.

Dreamscapes

Sun, Feb 2, 2014

Dreamscapes

      Often times we talk about dreams coming true. But what if I told you of a dream that came true in fifteen minutes? Here's my story: Picture it, the Bronx, 2013. I was having a dream that I was on an old train platform, the kind that they had in the old West, the kind the Wells Fargo Wagon would have pulled up to delivering goods for the town folk. There were two young children who greeted me with an embrace, when suddenly out of nowhere, a third child tried to sneak in for a hug. She was much bigger than the other two and she attempted to muscle her way in knocking the other children out of her way. She happened to be black with a head full of dreads.

      “You knock those kids again and I'll take you by your stringy hair and hang you from that tree!”, I said reprimanding her.

      Then I awoke in my studio apartment. Now it's important to tell you that I've always considered myself an Orangemen, I attended Syracuse University and that's what we call ourselves. Additionally, orange is my favorite color.

      I was hungry so I decided to walk to the neighborhood deli for a sandwich. I made it to the corner when I noticed a strange art installation, a sculpture that a homeless person had made around a small tree on the sidewalk. I couldn't believe my eyes. There it was, a black winter glove tied to a branch of the tree. Around the base of the tree was a small brick-shaped rock with an orange peeled into quarters set on top. Around the base of the brick were two additional gloves, one blue and one yellow, reaching up to the orange peels as if to embrace the orange.

      Was this a coincidence? I certainly didn't interpret it as such and I had just been on that block and never noticed the sculpture there before. This wasn't a case of me seeing this and then interpreting it in a dream. This was the reverse: my dream had been interpreted AFTER I dreamt it.

      I had seen other sculptures like this around the neighborhood since I moved in. I always noticed the same homeless man working on his “garbage sculptures” and they had always intrigued me. What a wonderful way to express oneself, I had thought every time he had a new installation. But this one took the cake. I was fortunate enough to run into the artist a few days later.

      “I just want to tell you how much I enjoy your work, your sculptures. They are fascinating and you express yourself so beautifully. I especially like the one with the orange peels you did over there.” I said pointing to the tree.

      “Thank you. They are exactly what you think they are”.

Sunsets For Elizabeth

Sat, Feb 1, 2014

Sunsets For Elizabeth

In silence as the sun descends to sea,

Like sirens song

And sorrow's longing lingers far too long

To break your brow,

To sting the soul that muted long ago

Still sings to halls of none.

In silence that has steadfast forged in me

The absent roots

Which bore the fruit-lings ever present here

To hail rejoice,

To dance for life that crippled long ago

And partners only one.

In silence that is broken,

In silence that is spoken,

In silence that is shattered

Is where you most have mattered.

And now I offer sunsets.

The sunsets of your silence lost,

Your silence lost,

Your silence lost.