Renaming her...

I want to rename my blog

I've been reading Nora Ephron's latest book: I Feel Bad About My Neck and other thoughts on being a woman..." and it's changing the way I feel about writing this - my autobiographical life in cyberspace...

So I will be calling it "a blog for Nora".
Besides, I think that she might be flattered if this blog ever does become 'famous' and hopefully not sue me, as the institution of Seinfeld might, if in fact, what was my old blog became famous...

I have been blessed in this life because all the memories of women - past and present

I have been lucky because the women in my life were strong intelligent and wonderful. Perhaps it's the Slovak gene which prepared my ancestors for hard work in the fields, many children and the pioneering spirit which led a generation to North America, or a mixture of their steadfast ability to endure the elements, cultural and language barriers they encountered when they settled here

While reading Nora's book, I realized that her words could as easily become mine in 15 years. The quest for youth, and then the comfortable acceptance that age is a good thing:makes you wiser, bolder, and in a different way, more attractive. A self acceptance which, at the age of 20, seems oddly bewildering and elusive.

I hope to meet Nora one day - perhaps over a latte at Starbucks, exchanging stories about the 'tumultuous twenties', the 'dirty thirties" and what lies ahead for us as women who look toward the future with grace and self-assurance, and the satisfaction that - baby - we've come a long way and we've done it with an iron fist in a velvet glove...

This book is quickly becoming an inspiration, a tool of stimulation for my writer's block. The poet in me is optimistic that I will be able to find the right words, the right beat to string together sentences that flow as effortlessly as hers do. The realist in me says: if she can do it, hell - so can you.

She too was once a woman in her thirties, on the cusp of her forties...

So here I sit, on my day off, fending off a nasty cold, post nasal drip, Cubano tropicalissimo musico filling my empty front room (soon to be photo studio) and look to the future with hope and a big dollop of confidence.

The corners of my mouth lift up ever so slightly as I think about my upcoming exposition in April...

In New York City -
In Chelsea -
In a bar/lounge called Madame X

and then hear Frank Sinatra croon:

"if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere..."

Thanks Nora