I was reading an old journal entry about an evening when I was acting really erratic. How strange it was. All of those emotions came back so quickly and were so very real, but there was also a new feeling - of objectivity. I really went bonkers that day - intense was not the word. I wonder if I were on my mood stabilizersback then, would I have freaked as much? I wonder now, if I go off these things, will I freak out like that again?
I wrote something yesterday when I went on my little walk to the park downtown. It was a strange insight, but as with all my rantings, I had to share it with you and put it down in Times Roman for the record...
I'm slipping between "why me" and "why not me" -
why did my mom get cancer, why are my friends getting the lucky film breaks?
Right now, I'm living dangerously without a strong sunscreen.
(applies sunscreen. SPF 60 - what a wuss.)
So I swing between the why me and why not me - it's pathetic. I'm pathetic, and until I stop beating myself up about this crap, I'll end up black and blue.
Inner bruises are harder to see and heal...
Why can't I shake this dead weight off me? I feel awful about everything, I feel guilty for everything. That's toxic - the guilt, the despair, the regret.
I think that mom's cancer has triggered quite the cascade of emotions, picking up speed and litres of cubic volume along the way.
I miss being happy. I miss having things to do - things that I can really sink my teeth into that give me a sense of purpose and satisfaction. I wish I had a lucky break - a nice big fat one...
I'm not talking about the past, I'm talking about now!
Look at those drunkies/druggies; the woman who looks like Janis Joplin, clapping her hands, smiling and laughing, talking with her other junkie buddies. They don't have a care in the world - in the now world that is...
Ignorance is bliss to a certain extent I guess.
As for me? Well, I think too damm much. Over think and Über-analyze. If I could only put that mechanisim of "over thinking" into good use.
I can hear the:
Kathy, you're blowing things out of proportion again!
Different voices reciting the same sound bite.
God. I hate feeling helpless and confused like this - bound, gagged and blindfolded in the back of a truck heading nowhere - going around in circles, and circles and circles.
The mood stabilizers are really just acting like a lead blanket - when I'm sad - it's a general layer of sadness. Everything and nothing in particular. When I was'nt on them, I was able, at least to truly feel those complex emotionson on a more profound, almost spiritual level; they each had a name: a fixed smell, a vibrant color, a certian part of the body that ached. These moments of sadness were easy to pinpoint:
- I feel rejected
- I feel jealous
- I feel needy
- I feel lonely
- I feel lost
I was able to see exactly where and what the roots were, examine them, dissect and try to understand.
Lonely?
Who is not in your life that is making you lonely?
Depressed?
What is happening in your life that is making you depressed?
Overwhelmed?
Why exactly are you feeling overwhelmed?
But now, I waddle through a perpetual black sludge in my mind where everything is blurry, nothing is distinguishable, all amounting to one big lumpy stinking mess. If only I knew what this toxic soup was comprised of, perhaps I could then be able to systematically remove these corpses and dispose of them.
but for now, this poisonous liquid becoming that much thicker, and therefore it eventually becomes that much more indigestible.
**
From what I rememeber of lithium, I'd say these pills are a milder form. ButI'm still fumbling in that zombie-like state. No gears, no brakes, just wheels and a body being pulled toward and elusive point of "generic wellness".
I can't even tell you what's moving and what's standing still.
Yes, I miss the highs. Those creative high - we all remember them well. Perhaps there is a way to balance on both feet and not fall flat on your face, or break bones, but lay on the side. Or perhaps that's where I am now - laying on the side, and I can't get up.
God.
I sit here thinking about the weeks zooming by. All the money I've spent, the fact that I'm not making any money, how I long to be "part" of something creative and productive so I could share in the genesis of a wonderful project, but I am ever looking for a reason to fail, to doubt myself.
A certain kind of poetic existential suicide.
(looking around, I zone out, and write this)
I saw the face of Jesus in a park bench by the fountain.
What a great title for a song - Tom Waits style.
I really did.
For a moment, when my eyes weren't focused on anything in particular. The pattern was always there. Perhaps I was looking for it, needed to see it. The face of the Jesus in a slice of toast, the virgin Mary in the reflection of an office window; what have we become, where has our faith gone?
(I realize that what I just wrote has some bizarre connections and perhaps answers to the questions I've been asking myself all along...)
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Goodbye Santa Fe
My friend Eric was in Santa Fe for the summer.
How I envy him.
Santa Fe is a beautiful place on it's own, but E's photos just bring out the magic.
I am hoping that my mom and I will be able to go there sometime in January to see her friend Y. I know we will both need that rest after the year we've had...
Thnx Eric for showing me that the world is still a beautiful place to be in...
How I envy him.
Santa Fe is a beautiful place on it's own, but E's photos just bring out the magic.
I am hoping that my mom and I will be able to go there sometime in January to see her friend Y. I know we will both need that rest after the year we've had...
Thnx Eric for showing me that the world is still a beautiful place to be in...
Thursday, August 24, 2006
It's here again...
That lovely time of the month that makes me feel as if I am falling from a 100 story building with blocks of cement on my legs.
The time of month where everything seems like a lost cause and nothing is worth any effort.
Except, this feeling has been around a lot longer than usual.
I think of this time as the cayane pepper sprinkling of woe and desperation in my already stomach churning/too hot to digest weeks of indigestion.
Today, I feel as if all of what I have done up to now is just for shit - nothing. All of this work, effort, tears, and exhaustion has amounted up to zip. I am telling myself - face it, you're 38, unemployed, too many university degrees and almost 40000$ in debt with no sign of any of this getting better.
And this overwhelms me to the point that I feel as if I am suffocating.
I don't see any way out except - out.
But I am not as desperate as I was in my youth - I now know that there are alternate ways to snake around the rough spots - but are they feasible options? Skipping town, the country, changing my identity and starting from scratch? Is it worth it? Will I spend the rest of my life trying to salvage the shreds of this one, or would it be worth the effort to wipe the slate clean? Fuck that - toss the slate and get a new one?
What are the options?
Are there ever any real options?
That lovely time of the month that makes me feel as if I am falling from a 100 story building with blocks of cement on my legs.
The time of month where everything seems like a lost cause and nothing is worth any effort.
Except, this feeling has been around a lot longer than usual.
I think of this time as the cayane pepper sprinkling of woe and desperation in my already stomach churning/too hot to digest weeks of indigestion.
Today, I feel as if all of what I have done up to now is just for shit - nothing. All of this work, effort, tears, and exhaustion has amounted up to zip. I am telling myself - face it, you're 38, unemployed, too many university degrees and almost 40000$ in debt with no sign of any of this getting better.
And this overwhelms me to the point that I feel as if I am suffocating.
I don't see any way out except - out.
But I am not as desperate as I was in my youth - I now know that there are alternate ways to snake around the rough spots - but are they feasible options? Skipping town, the country, changing my identity and starting from scratch? Is it worth it? Will I spend the rest of my life trying to salvage the shreds of this one, or would it be worth the effort to wipe the slate clean? Fuck that - toss the slate and get a new one?
What are the options?
Are there ever any real options?
Friday, August 11, 2006
up to speed...
Well, in a nutshell:
Mom is going through chemo. I can't calculate the months but she started in May (I think, no April 4. It was my birthday. How could I forget?) She is losing her hair big time. She bought a wig and it looks fantastic. She wants to shave her head - I told her to wait for me cause I want to take pictures of it. It's almost like a ritual - a passage from one identity to another - almost monastic in quality. I hope she waits for me. If she doesn't, she'll be in a lot of trouble...
Found out that the root of most of my problems is my fybromyalgia. The brain fog, the aches and pains (and oh the fucken aches and pains...), the memory loss, the fatigue and depression - all part and parcel of this syndrome. What did he tell me? Exercise and eat well.
thank's a fucken million.
I could have looked at the latest issue of Glamour or Elle to find out that kind of information.
I know it's hard - you feel achy, and depressed, so you don't have the energy to do anything - but that is a vicious cycle - you have to break it, once you do, you'll see things will get easier with time. It's one of the proven solutions for people with your illness.
Then it hit me: As hard as it's going to be (especially now - I'm feeling sooo down and exhausted) I have to help myself.
My best gal pal sent me an email telling me how proud she was that I was going through this so stoically - taking it all in stride, one day at a time.
if I were in your shoes, I would have melted away or gone insane a long time ago...
That's what I fear - that I am slowly melting - peices of me are falling away at such a slow rate, I don't notice now, but in 2 years I will - I will be a mess...
Am I dealing with this properly? Am I using this dark passage in my life to renew myself - grow spiritually, or am I in some sort of hazy denial?
I don't know anymore, and I don't have the energy to ask those questions of myself either...
The photo stuff is good - well, on one side of the coin.
Did I mention that my stuff is now on display in Arizona? For the whole month. I am really happy about that.
then what's wrong?
Money. Isn't it always?
I need money, I need people to pay me money for the work that I do. Things are painfully slow, but I am hoping that now I've turned my front room into what looks more like a studio, I might be able to have people here to take headshots.
Funny, I even doubt my ability to do that well, despite the fact that I've done it before.
Silly silly moi.
Going camping next week with the man to Vermont.
A nice relaxing 3 days in the woods. I think it might be really cold at night, so I will bring long-johns to keep my aching bones warm.
Sitting by the fire with a can of lighter fluid, marshmellows, cheap booze and a portable raido that plays "The house of Hair" - old metal bands from the 80's.
Yea, I can't wait....
Mom is going through chemo. I can't calculate the months but she started in May (I think, no April 4. It was my birthday. How could I forget?) She is losing her hair big time. She bought a wig and it looks fantastic. She wants to shave her head - I told her to wait for me cause I want to take pictures of it. It's almost like a ritual - a passage from one identity to another - almost monastic in quality. I hope she waits for me. If she doesn't, she'll be in a lot of trouble...
Found out that the root of most of my problems is my fybromyalgia. The brain fog, the aches and pains (and oh the fucken aches and pains...), the memory loss, the fatigue and depression - all part and parcel of this syndrome. What did he tell me? Exercise and eat well.
thank's a fucken million.
I could have looked at the latest issue of Glamour or Elle to find out that kind of information.
I know it's hard - you feel achy, and depressed, so you don't have the energy to do anything - but that is a vicious cycle - you have to break it, once you do, you'll see things will get easier with time. It's one of the proven solutions for people with your illness.
Then it hit me: As hard as it's going to be (especially now - I'm feeling sooo down and exhausted) I have to help myself.
My best gal pal sent me an email telling me how proud she was that I was going through this so stoically - taking it all in stride, one day at a time.
if I were in your shoes, I would have melted away or gone insane a long time ago...
That's what I fear - that I am slowly melting - peices of me are falling away at such a slow rate, I don't notice now, but in 2 years I will - I will be a mess...
Am I dealing with this properly? Am I using this dark passage in my life to renew myself - grow spiritually, or am I in some sort of hazy denial?
I don't know anymore, and I don't have the energy to ask those questions of myself either...
The photo stuff is good - well, on one side of the coin.
Did I mention that my stuff is now on display in Arizona? For the whole month. I am really happy about that.
then what's wrong?
Money. Isn't it always?
I need money, I need people to pay me money for the work that I do. Things are painfully slow, but I am hoping that now I've turned my front room into what looks more like a studio, I might be able to have people here to take headshots.
Funny, I even doubt my ability to do that well, despite the fact that I've done it before.
Silly silly moi.
Going camping next week with the man to Vermont.
A nice relaxing 3 days in the woods. I think it might be really cold at night, so I will bring long-johns to keep my aching bones warm.
Sitting by the fire with a can of lighter fluid, marshmellows, cheap booze and a portable raido that plays "The house of Hair" - old metal bands from the 80's.
Yea, I can't wait....
Thursday, July 27, 2006
crampy fingers are better at typing than writing, but not for very long...
wow.
What a whirlwind of activity.
I have no clue where to begin!!!
I guess I'll start with the best - I am going to have my very first SOLO EXHIBITION in April (I was asked if I wanted to have it sooner) at a place in New York City called Madame X. It's a swanky lounge/gallery in Chelsea and that is just the biggest peacock feather in my cap.
I'm fucken elated.
Got 3 of my photos in a juried exhibition in Arizona. Was supposed to go down but with the Madame X thing calling for money - prints and frames, I figured that Arizona would be too hot now anyway, and I wanted to take the road trip with my mom in October - so we could pass by there then.
Shot some films for my friend Ren - we worked on that 2880 film marathon 3 years ago. He's just the coolest. Monday was the end of his short (which is waiting to be edited) and yesterday was some sort of video clip that will be used in some Heineken promo video for the new James Bond film. I am keeping my fingers crossed that the images worked.
Spent the day with my mom - went to Ikea. We must have walked two miles - round and round. It was so nice to hang with her. She bought me a desk and some bookshelves along with all the other goodies she brought. I feel that the time we spend together is not enough to make up for lost time. I see how she is taking care of her mother, and it moves me so much as to how strong she is. I don't ever think I can rise to the occasion like she can, but then again, she is living proof that chemo nor cancer will keep a good woman down.
We are slated to go wig shopping 2mrw.
It's so hot, and damp, I'm melting away.
but soon to come back and transcribe my written notes before I end up losing those just like I have lost so many things latley.
My mom and I - 'chemo brains"....
What a whirlwind of activity.
I have no clue where to begin!!!
I guess I'll start with the best - I am going to have my very first SOLO EXHIBITION in April (I was asked if I wanted to have it sooner) at a place in New York City called Madame X. It's a swanky lounge/gallery in Chelsea and that is just the biggest peacock feather in my cap.
I'm fucken elated.
Got 3 of my photos in a juried exhibition in Arizona. Was supposed to go down but with the Madame X thing calling for money - prints and frames, I figured that Arizona would be too hot now anyway, and I wanted to take the road trip with my mom in October - so we could pass by there then.
Shot some films for my friend Ren - we worked on that 2880 film marathon 3 years ago. He's just the coolest. Monday was the end of his short (which is waiting to be edited) and yesterday was some sort of video clip that will be used in some Heineken promo video for the new James Bond film. I am keeping my fingers crossed that the images worked.
Spent the day with my mom - went to Ikea. We must have walked two miles - round and round. It was so nice to hang with her. She bought me a desk and some bookshelves along with all the other goodies she brought. I feel that the time we spend together is not enough to make up for lost time. I see how she is taking care of her mother, and it moves me so much as to how strong she is. I don't ever think I can rise to the occasion like she can, but then again, she is living proof that chemo nor cancer will keep a good woman down.
We are slated to go wig shopping 2mrw.
It's so hot, and damp, I'm melting away.
but soon to come back and transcribe my written notes before I end up losing those just like I have lost so many things latley.
My mom and I - 'chemo brains"....
Saturday, July 08, 2006
And no, I don't know what I'm doing...
Astro advice from the pro:
Saturday, 8th July 2006
ARIES (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
Your week ahead: Do you know what you are doing? Does anyone? We all have hidden agendas. We all kid ourselves about our true motives. We all act unconsciously from time to time. Those who feel sure that they DO know what they are doing are the greatest self-deceivers. Those with enough humility to acknowledge that they don't know, have the best chance of actually finding out. Maybe you don't know what you are doing now - but that's good. Better yet, you know what you are NOT doing. Pluto’s harmonious alignment to Mars is enhancing your discrimination; you are thus very safe and very deserving of success.
Hmm, lets see.
I have 10000+ things on my plate - shooting my friend Ren's film next week (I have not even seen the story board)
- have 300+ photos to pshop for my friend Pete who just got engaged (they want me for the wedding in November)
- I hate my new camera - it's giving me attitude - focus is soft, metering off. I am debating whether the investment was worth it or should I have just suck with repairing my already wonderful little workhorse?
- I have so many deadlines for contests and reviews that they all seem to be slipping away so fast.
- i am overweight, and bloated, have found new deep furrows in my frown lines on my forehead
- have been hiding from everybody - no return phonecalls or emails. Just hiding in my little house, afraid of the damaging rays of the sun, worried that my moles will someday turn into skinflaps of cancer cells
- I feel like i am slowly losing direction in my life, and realize that time is slipping by so quickly.
That's not to mention that mom's hair is falling out and that we have to go wig shopping next week.
Fuck.
She's being so stoic and a true blue trooper.
Here I am, cowering behind my computer, thinking my life is gonna crasha and burn while my mother deals with the side effects of having raidoactive liqud poison pumped into her veins.
I dreamt of my great grandmother the other night. She looked good.
The old country saying - "when you dream of dead people it's because they want your prayers"
I wonder if that is their way of doing "the pop in" just to let you know that they are thinking of you?
Hi Babka, and Bob and Starachek...
Saturday, 8th July 2006
ARIES (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
Your week ahead: Do you know what you are doing? Does anyone? We all have hidden agendas. We all kid ourselves about our true motives. We all act unconsciously from time to time. Those who feel sure that they DO know what they are doing are the greatest self-deceivers. Those with enough humility to acknowledge that they don't know, have the best chance of actually finding out. Maybe you don't know what you are doing now - but that's good. Better yet, you know what you are NOT doing. Pluto’s harmonious alignment to Mars is enhancing your discrimination; you are thus very safe and very deserving of success.
Hmm, lets see.
I have 10000+ things on my plate - shooting my friend Ren's film next week (I have not even seen the story board)
- have 300+ photos to pshop for my friend Pete who just got engaged (they want me for the wedding in November)
- I hate my new camera - it's giving me attitude - focus is soft, metering off. I am debating whether the investment was worth it or should I have just suck with repairing my already wonderful little workhorse?
- I have so many deadlines for contests and reviews that they all seem to be slipping away so fast.
- i am overweight, and bloated, have found new deep furrows in my frown lines on my forehead
- have been hiding from everybody - no return phonecalls or emails. Just hiding in my little house, afraid of the damaging rays of the sun, worried that my moles will someday turn into skinflaps of cancer cells
- I feel like i am slowly losing direction in my life, and realize that time is slipping by so quickly.
That's not to mention that mom's hair is falling out and that we have to go wig shopping next week.
Fuck.
She's being so stoic and a true blue trooper.
Here I am, cowering behind my computer, thinking my life is gonna crasha and burn while my mother deals with the side effects of having raidoactive liqud poison pumped into her veins.
I dreamt of my great grandmother the other night. She looked good.
The old country saying - "when you dream of dead people it's because they want your prayers"
I wonder if that is their way of doing "the pop in" just to let you know that they are thinking of you?
Hi Babka, and Bob and Starachek...
Monday, July 03, 2006
black and blue
I saw this on flickr, and it just moved me so deeply, I had to post it.
It makes me realize how my 'problems' are quite trivial when compared to people out in the real cruel world...
Frack to Bront - bravo on this posting.
Your photo tells a story that is all too common and that very few people want to hear, and so often, turn a blind eye as to the reality of domestic abuse.
and of course - the biggest bravo going to this woman.
Her beauty is strong and radiant, despite the bruises on her face. It is the look of determination, strength, courage. It's in her eyes, and in the subtle curve of her smile.
If I were in her situation, I think the last thing I would be able to is smile.
This photo depicts the kind of humanity that only a sensitive photographer can capture/share.
God bless this poor woman and her child
and God bless you for sharing this with us.
It makes me realize how my 'problems' are quite trivial when compared to people out in the real cruel world...
Frack to Bront - bravo on this posting.
Your photo tells a story that is all too common and that very few people want to hear, and so often, turn a blind eye as to the reality of domestic abuse.
and of course - the biggest bravo going to this woman.
Her beauty is strong and radiant, despite the bruises on her face. It is the look of determination, strength, courage. It's in her eyes, and in the subtle curve of her smile.
If I were in her situation, I think the last thing I would be able to is smile.
This photo depicts the kind of humanity that only a sensitive photographer can capture/share.
God bless this poor woman and her child
and God bless you for sharing this with us.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
No Entry
I have so much catching up to do. I think I will take a weekend and try to transcribe all my notes about the things that went on when I was in NYC.
This was the trip before last - I think that makes this one #4 - when I went to drop off my frames before the show. I went back a week later for the vernisage - that was trip #5...
There will be a trip #6, 7, 8 and maybe 9 before the end of the year
because
I HAVE A CONFIRMATION THAT I WILL BE HAVING MY FIRST SOLO PHOTO EXHIBITION AT MADAME X!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOOOOOO HOOOO!!
The date depends on me and how fast I can pump out the prints, but I am hoping for April (what a way to bring in my 39th birthday!!!) so that will give me enough time to slut around my stuff - promo materials, postcards to mail etc. I am going to make this the biggest shin dig in my history! And I want everybody to be there - so I have to start now by apply myself into serious guerilla marketing mode.
And if I wait until April:
a) I will be able to shoot some more stuff (and get in shape, lose 20 pounds to be able to take those self portraits!!)
b) get myself through winter with the looking forward of something spectacular in spring!!
WOOO HOOO!!
nyc - here i come...
:-)
This was the trip before last - I think that makes this one #4 - when I went to drop off my frames before the show. I went back a week later for the vernisage - that was trip #5...
There will be a trip #6, 7, 8 and maybe 9 before the end of the year
because
I HAVE A CONFIRMATION THAT I WILL BE HAVING MY FIRST SOLO PHOTO EXHIBITION AT MADAME X!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOOOOOO HOOOO!!
The date depends on me and how fast I can pump out the prints, but I am hoping for April (what a way to bring in my 39th birthday!!!) so that will give me enough time to slut around my stuff - promo materials, postcards to mail etc. I am going to make this the biggest shin dig in my history! And I want everybody to be there - so I have to start now by apply myself into serious guerilla marketing mode.
And if I wait until April:
a) I will be able to shoot some more stuff (and get in shape, lose 20 pounds to be able to take those self portraits!!)
b) get myself through winter with the looking forward of something spectacular in spring!!
WOOO HOOO!!
nyc - here i come...
:-)
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
He's a real slug
I was trying to explain to a friend of mine (who is not familliar with american slang) what it means when you call someone a slug.
Well, there is even more reason now for me to refer guys who fall below the lowest common denominator as slug - not only are they disgusting - THEY ARE SADISTIC PERVERTS!!!
Reproduction
Slugs are hermaphroditic: having both female and male reproductive organs. Once a slug has located a mate they encircle each other and sperm is exchanged through their protruding genitalia. A few days later around 30 eggs are laid into a hole in the ground. Although some species hibernate underground during the winter in temperate climates, in other species, the adults die in the autumn.
(now get ready for this - gentlemen - hold onto your packages)
A commonly seen practice among many slugs is apophallation, when one or both of the slugs chew off the other's penis. The penis of these species is curled like a cork-screw and often becomes entangled in their mate's genitalia in the process of exchanging sperm. Apophallation allows the slugs to separate themselves. Once the penis has been removed, the slug remains female for the rest of its life.
Various species of slug can also reproduce via tiny "darts" of sperm which they fling in the direction of their mate's genitalia.
okay - I've heard about kids playing with their food, but this is just OUTRAGEOUS!!!
ehhg.
I'll be back with some more delightful stories in a week or so.
Well, there is even more reason now for me to refer guys who fall below the lowest common denominator as slug - not only are they disgusting - THEY ARE SADISTIC PERVERTS!!!
Reproduction
Slugs are hermaphroditic: having both female and male reproductive organs. Once a slug has located a mate they encircle each other and sperm is exchanged through their protruding genitalia. A few days later around 30 eggs are laid into a hole in the ground. Although some species hibernate underground during the winter in temperate climates, in other species, the adults die in the autumn.
(now get ready for this - gentlemen - hold onto your packages)
A commonly seen practice among many slugs is apophallation, when one or both of the slugs chew off the other's penis. The penis of these species is curled like a cork-screw and often becomes entangled in their mate's genitalia in the process of exchanging sperm. Apophallation allows the slugs to separate themselves. Once the penis has been removed, the slug remains female for the rest of its life.
Various species of slug can also reproduce via tiny "darts" of sperm which they fling in the direction of their mate's genitalia.
okay - I've heard about kids playing with their food, but this is just OUTRAGEOUS!!!
ehhg.
I'll be back with some more delightful stories in a week or so.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
tired
There are few people (photographers) who can eloquenlty and powerfully express what it is like to be in a state of isolation, sadness. Jennifer is one of the best.
Since I have met her (when I was in Seattle) my life has changed. She has become a source of inspiration to me - both her images and words are powerful, yet delicate. Real and so very much in the present.
Many people shy away from feelings of grief, loneliness but being the brave soul she is - Jen explores them with a bravery that is rare in an age when people medicate or try to run away from anything negative.
You are a brave and beautiful woman Jen - you continue to inspire me to find a creative outlet to my blocked energy.
Since I have met her (when I was in Seattle) my life has changed. She has become a source of inspiration to me - both her images and words are powerful, yet delicate. Real and so very much in the present.
Many people shy away from feelings of grief, loneliness but being the brave soul she is - Jen explores them with a bravery that is rare in an age when people medicate or try to run away from anything negative.
You are a brave and beautiful woman Jen - you continue to inspire me to find a creative outlet to my blocked energy.
Friday, June 23, 2006
My biggest gripe as a photographer...
As a photographer, we are being robbed blind.
With the advent of digital photography, and the access to thousands upon thousands of images on the internet (not to mention - everybody who now calls themselves "a photographer" because they now have a digital camera) - individuals who have actually studied or honed their skills at the craft are being swindled blind and kicked while we are down.
This is my biggest gripe as a photographer and I have to share my story and other stories from photographers around the globe who are in the same leaky boat...
A blogrant from this site:
You want to know what a picture is worth? Ask Time, Inc. (People), Hello, and the other international publications who have now paid millions of pounds, dollars, euros, and who knows what else for the exclusive first publication rights to the Brangelina baby pics.
Now, I have absolutely no interest in the images from the celebrity standpoint--I’ve never cared for either parent as actors and really don’t care if they have one or a dozen babies. I will look at the images like I do most images, with a critical eye, and I won’t go out of my way to get my hands on the pubs with them, but that’s just me and I’m weird in that.
What does interest me about the pics is that incredibly high price. Some photographers are bitching and complaining about it--railing about the unfairness of Time, Inc. paying such sums when they make “regular” photographers take low fees. But here’s the thing--numbers like that mean that they do understand the value of images and they are willing to negotiate.
What does that mean to the average photographer? It is yet ANOTHER reason to hold the line on prices and to negotiate better deals, or walk away from the table. Use the fact that they shelled out so much money for those images as one of your negotiating tactics.
Oh, and no one ever “makes” a photographer take a crap deal; s/he chooses to do that him/herself. Always. You can always say “no.”
The second part of the story is that Time, Inc. and Hello are going after gawker.com for infringing on copyright and their exclusive publication rights. Gawker, a blog-ish site that has repeatedly stolen images and other material to fill its pages, published a small version of one of the photos, in its original context on the cover the the publication. Ooops! That’s a double infringement--the image AND the cover as a whole. And the lawyers at Time, Inc. and Hello are serious about this.
Now why would they be bothering if they weren’t aware how important their intellectual property rights were? What value they held? They know, and every creative should know the value of his/her work as well.
As I posted on one of the photo forums earlier, infringement makes for strange bedfellows--go get ‘em Time. Inc.!
and another from Wired magazine:
Thank you Jeff Howe for that delightful and insightful article.
You can read his brilliant blog followup to the article here
(and I suggest you do!)
The Rise of Crowdsourcing
1. The Professional
Remember outsourcing? Sending jobs to India and China is so 2003. The new pool of cheap labor: everyday people using their spare cycles to create content, solve problems, even do corporate R & D.
Claudia Menashe needed pictures of sick people. A project director at the National Health Museum in Washington, DC, Menashe was putting together a series of interactive kiosks devoted to potential pandemics like the avian flu. An exhibition designer had created a plan for the kiosk itself, but now Menashe was looking for images to accompany the text. Rather than hire a photographer to take shots of people suffering from the flu, Menashe decided to use preexisting images – stock photography, as it’s known in the publishing industry.
In October 2004, she ran across a stock photo collection by Mark Harmel, a freelance photographer living in Manhattan Beach, California. Harmel, whose wife is a doctor, specializes in images related to the health care industry. “Claudia wanted people sneezing, getting immunized, that sort of thing,” recalls Harmel, a slight, soft-spoken 52-year-old.
The National Health Museum has grand plans to occupy a spot on the National Mall in Washington by 2012, but for now it’s a fledgling institution with little money. “They were on a tight budget, so I charged them my nonprofit rate,” says Harmel, who works out of a cozy but crowded office in the back of the house he shares with his wife and stepson. He offered the museum a generous discount: $100 to $150 per photograph. “That’s about half of what a corporate client would pay,” he says. Menashe was interested in about four shots, so for Harmel, this could be a sale worth $600.
After several weeks of back-and-forth, Menashe emailed Harmel to say that, regretfully, the deal was off. “I discovered a stock photo site called iStockphoto,” she wrote, “which has images at very affordable prices.” That was an understatement. The same day, Menashe licensed 56 pictures through iStockphoto – for about $1 each.
iStockphoto, which grew out of a free image-sharing exchange used by a group of graphic designers, had undercut Harmel by more than 99 percent. How? By creating a marketplace for the work of amateur photographers – homemakers, students, engineers, dancers. There are now about 22,000 contributors to the site, which charges between $1 and $5 per basic image. (Very large, high-resolution pictures can cost up to $40.) Unlike professionals, iStockers don’t need to clear $130,000 a year from their photos just to break even; an extra $130 does just fine. “I negotiate my rate all the time,” Harmel says. “But how can I compete with a dollar?”
He can’t, of course. For Harmel, the harsh economics lesson was clear: The product Harmel offers is no longer scarce. Professional-grade cameras now cost less than $1,000. With a computer and a copy of Photoshop, even entry-level enthusiasts can create photographs rivaling those by professionals like Harmel. Add the Internet and powerful search technology, and sharing these images with the world becomes simple.
At first, the stock industry aligned itself against iStockphoto and other so-called microstock agencies like ShutterStock and Dreamstime. Then, in February, Getty Images, the largest agency by far with more than 30 percent of the global market, purchased iStockphoto for $50 million. “If someone’s going to cannibalize your business, better it be one of your other businesses,” says Getty CEO Jonathan Klein. iStockphoto’s revenue is growing by about 14 percent a month and the service is on track to license about 10 million images in 2006 – several times what Getty’s more expensive stock agencies will sell. iStockphoto’s clients now include bulk photo purchasers like IBM and United Way, as well as the small design firms once forced to go to big stock houses. “I was using Corbis and Getty, and the image fees came out of my design fees, which kept my margin low,” notes one UK designer in an email to the company.
“iStockphoto’s micro-payment system has allowed me to increase my profit margin.” Welcome to the age of the crowd. Just as distributed computing projects like UC Berkeley’s SETI@home have tapped the unused processing power of millions of individual computers, so distributed labor networks are using the Internet to exploit the spare processing power of millions of human brains. The open source software movement proved that a network of passionate, geeky volunteers could write code just as well as the highly paid developers at Microsoft or Sun Microsystems. Wikipedia showed that the model could be used to create a sprawling and surprisingly comprehensive online encyclopedia. And companies like eBay and MySpace have built profitable businesses that couldn’t exist without the contributions of users.
All these companies grew up in the Internet age and were designed to take advantage of the networked world. But now the productive potential of millions of plugged-in enthusiasts is attracting the attention of old-line businesses, too. For the last decade or so, companies have been looking overseas, to India or China, for cheap labor. But now it doesn’t matter where the laborers are – they might be down the block, they might be in Indonesia – as long as they are connected to the network.
Technological advances in everything from product design software to digital video cameras are breaking down the cost barriers that once separated amateurs from professionals. Hobbyists, part-timers, and dabblers suddenly have a market for their efforts, as smart companies in industries as disparate as pharmaceuticals and television discover ways to tap the latent talent of the crowd. The labor isn’t always free, but it costs a lot less than paying traditional employees. It’s not outsourcing; it’s crowdsourcing.
It took a while for Harmel to recognize what was happening. “When the National Health Museum called, I’d never heard of iStockphoto,” he says. “But now, I see it as the first hole in the dike.” In 2000, Harmel made roughly $69,000 from a portfolio of 100 stock photographs, a tidy addition to what he earned from commissioned work. Last year his stock business generated less money – $59,000 – from more than 1,000 photos. That’s quite a bit more work for less money.
Harmel isn’t the only photographer feeling the pinch. Last summer, there was a flurry of complaints on the Stock Artists Alliance online forum. “People were noticing a significant decline in returns on their stock portfolios,” Harmel says. “I can’t point to iStockphoto and say it’s the culprit, but it has definitely put downward pressure on prices.” As a result, he has decided to shift the focus of his business to assignment work. “I just don’t see much of a future for professional stock photography,” he says.
I have even more painful stories from the front - those come next...
With the advent of digital photography, and the access to thousands upon thousands of images on the internet (not to mention - everybody who now calls themselves "a photographer" because they now have a digital camera) - individuals who have actually studied or honed their skills at the craft are being swindled blind and kicked while we are down.
This is my biggest gripe as a photographer and I have to share my story and other stories from photographers around the globe who are in the same leaky boat...
A blogrant from this site:
You want to know what a picture is worth? Ask Time, Inc. (People), Hello, and the other international publications who have now paid millions of pounds, dollars, euros, and who knows what else for the exclusive first publication rights to the Brangelina baby pics.
Now, I have absolutely no interest in the images from the celebrity standpoint--I’ve never cared for either parent as actors and really don’t care if they have one or a dozen babies. I will look at the images like I do most images, with a critical eye, and I won’t go out of my way to get my hands on the pubs with them, but that’s just me and I’m weird in that.
What does interest me about the pics is that incredibly high price. Some photographers are bitching and complaining about it--railing about the unfairness of Time, Inc. paying such sums when they make “regular” photographers take low fees. But here’s the thing--numbers like that mean that they do understand the value of images and they are willing to negotiate.
What does that mean to the average photographer? It is yet ANOTHER reason to hold the line on prices and to negotiate better deals, or walk away from the table. Use the fact that they shelled out so much money for those images as one of your negotiating tactics.
Oh, and no one ever “makes” a photographer take a crap deal; s/he chooses to do that him/herself. Always. You can always say “no.”
The second part of the story is that Time, Inc. and Hello are going after gawker.com for infringing on copyright and their exclusive publication rights. Gawker, a blog-ish site that has repeatedly stolen images and other material to fill its pages, published a small version of one of the photos, in its original context on the cover the the publication. Ooops! That’s a double infringement--the image AND the cover as a whole. And the lawyers at Time, Inc. and Hello are serious about this.
Now why would they be bothering if they weren’t aware how important their intellectual property rights were? What value they held? They know, and every creative should know the value of his/her work as well.
As I posted on one of the photo forums earlier, infringement makes for strange bedfellows--go get ‘em Time. Inc.!
and another from Wired magazine:
Thank you Jeff Howe for that delightful and insightful article.
You can read his brilliant blog followup to the article here
(and I suggest you do!)
The Rise of Crowdsourcing
1. The Professional
Remember outsourcing? Sending jobs to India and China is so 2003. The new pool of cheap labor: everyday people using their spare cycles to create content, solve problems, even do corporate R & D.
Claudia Menashe needed pictures of sick people. A project director at the National Health Museum in Washington, DC, Menashe was putting together a series of interactive kiosks devoted to potential pandemics like the avian flu. An exhibition designer had created a plan for the kiosk itself, but now Menashe was looking for images to accompany the text. Rather than hire a photographer to take shots of people suffering from the flu, Menashe decided to use preexisting images – stock photography, as it’s known in the publishing industry.
In October 2004, she ran across a stock photo collection by Mark Harmel, a freelance photographer living in Manhattan Beach, California. Harmel, whose wife is a doctor, specializes in images related to the health care industry. “Claudia wanted people sneezing, getting immunized, that sort of thing,” recalls Harmel, a slight, soft-spoken 52-year-old.
The National Health Museum has grand plans to occupy a spot on the National Mall in Washington by 2012, but for now it’s a fledgling institution with little money. “They were on a tight budget, so I charged them my nonprofit rate,” says Harmel, who works out of a cozy but crowded office in the back of the house he shares with his wife and stepson. He offered the museum a generous discount: $100 to $150 per photograph. “That’s about half of what a corporate client would pay,” he says. Menashe was interested in about four shots, so for Harmel, this could be a sale worth $600.
After several weeks of back-and-forth, Menashe emailed Harmel to say that, regretfully, the deal was off. “I discovered a stock photo site called iStockphoto,” she wrote, “which has images at very affordable prices.” That was an understatement. The same day, Menashe licensed 56 pictures through iStockphoto – for about $1 each.
iStockphoto, which grew out of a free image-sharing exchange used by a group of graphic designers, had undercut Harmel by more than 99 percent. How? By creating a marketplace for the work of amateur photographers – homemakers, students, engineers, dancers. There are now about 22,000 contributors to the site, which charges between $1 and $5 per basic image. (Very large, high-resolution pictures can cost up to $40.) Unlike professionals, iStockers don’t need to clear $130,000 a year from their photos just to break even; an extra $130 does just fine. “I negotiate my rate all the time,” Harmel says. “But how can I compete with a dollar?”
He can’t, of course. For Harmel, the harsh economics lesson was clear: The product Harmel offers is no longer scarce. Professional-grade cameras now cost less than $1,000. With a computer and a copy of Photoshop, even entry-level enthusiasts can create photographs rivaling those by professionals like Harmel. Add the Internet and powerful search technology, and sharing these images with the world becomes simple.
At first, the stock industry aligned itself against iStockphoto and other so-called microstock agencies like ShutterStock and Dreamstime. Then, in February, Getty Images, the largest agency by far with more than 30 percent of the global market, purchased iStockphoto for $50 million. “If someone’s going to cannibalize your business, better it be one of your other businesses,” says Getty CEO Jonathan Klein. iStockphoto’s revenue is growing by about 14 percent a month and the service is on track to license about 10 million images in 2006 – several times what Getty’s more expensive stock agencies will sell. iStockphoto’s clients now include bulk photo purchasers like IBM and United Way, as well as the small design firms once forced to go to big stock houses. “I was using Corbis and Getty, and the image fees came out of my design fees, which kept my margin low,” notes one UK designer in an email to the company.
“iStockphoto’s micro-payment system has allowed me to increase my profit margin.” Welcome to the age of the crowd. Just as distributed computing projects like UC Berkeley’s SETI@home have tapped the unused processing power of millions of individual computers, so distributed labor networks are using the Internet to exploit the spare processing power of millions of human brains. The open source software movement proved that a network of passionate, geeky volunteers could write code just as well as the highly paid developers at Microsoft or Sun Microsystems. Wikipedia showed that the model could be used to create a sprawling and surprisingly comprehensive online encyclopedia. And companies like eBay and MySpace have built profitable businesses that couldn’t exist without the contributions of users.
All these companies grew up in the Internet age and were designed to take advantage of the networked world. But now the productive potential of millions of plugged-in enthusiasts is attracting the attention of old-line businesses, too. For the last decade or so, companies have been looking overseas, to India or China, for cheap labor. But now it doesn’t matter where the laborers are – they might be down the block, they might be in Indonesia – as long as they are connected to the network.
Technological advances in everything from product design software to digital video cameras are breaking down the cost barriers that once separated amateurs from professionals. Hobbyists, part-timers, and dabblers suddenly have a market for their efforts, as smart companies in industries as disparate as pharmaceuticals and television discover ways to tap the latent talent of the crowd. The labor isn’t always free, but it costs a lot less than paying traditional employees. It’s not outsourcing; it’s crowdsourcing.
It took a while for Harmel to recognize what was happening. “When the National Health Museum called, I’d never heard of iStockphoto,” he says. “But now, I see it as the first hole in the dike.” In 2000, Harmel made roughly $69,000 from a portfolio of 100 stock photographs, a tidy addition to what he earned from commissioned work. Last year his stock business generated less money – $59,000 – from more than 1,000 photos. That’s quite a bit more work for less money.
Harmel isn’t the only photographer feeling the pinch. Last summer, there was a flurry of complaints on the Stock Artists Alliance online forum. “People were noticing a significant decline in returns on their stock portfolios,” Harmel says. “I can’t point to iStockphoto and say it’s the culprit, but it has definitely put downward pressure on prices.” As a result, he has decided to shift the focus of his business to assignment work. “I just don’t see much of a future for professional stock photography,” he says.
I have even more painful stories from the front - those come next...
Thursday, June 22, 2006
whirwind
Where do I begin?
Went to NYC to buy my camera and drop off my photos at the Rockaway Artist Alliance show in Rockaway Beach New York, came back home, did some stuff, then went back down again two weeks later - went to the expo, had an amazing time, met some really wonderful people, took lots of photos, came back home.
It sounds pretty simple, I know - but I am leaving out the details because i am just so EXHAUSTED!! OMG!!
so on that note, I will be back to transcribe some of my "Moleskien" journal entries...
Went to NYC to buy my camera and drop off my photos at the Rockaway Artist Alliance show in Rockaway Beach New York, came back home, did some stuff, then went back down again two weeks later - went to the expo, had an amazing time, met some really wonderful people, took lots of photos, came back home.
It sounds pretty simple, I know - but I am leaving out the details because i am just so EXHAUSTED!! OMG!!
so on that note, I will be back to transcribe some of my "Moleskien" journal entries...
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
A year ago this week...
a year ago this week...
Lets see:
I had some pix in a festival in Old Montreal
met an old friend who is now world renound for his kick ass body painting (and took some really cool photos of his work)
AND
I was absolutley elated and scared shitless because it was announced that we were having our first show on the 11th of June!
I'll never forget that.
I can't beleive a year has passed already.
And this time last year, going to New York City was not even a thought blip on my radar.
Seattle? Why that never ever even crossed my mind!
And the potential of doing camerawork on several documentaries and other short films?
HUH?!
Who would have thought!?
It's times like this that I'm happy I chose to take the time and document all of this right here...!!!
Thank you blogger!
Lets see:
I had some pix in a festival in Old Montreal
met an old friend who is now world renound for his kick ass body painting (and took some really cool photos of his work)
AND
I was absolutley elated and scared shitless because it was announced that we were having our first show on the 11th of June!
I'll never forget that.
I can't beleive a year has passed already.
And this time last year, going to New York City was not even a thought blip on my radar.
Seattle? Why that never ever even crossed my mind!
And the potential of doing camerawork on several documentaries and other short films?
HUH?!
Who would have thought!?
It's times like this that I'm happy I chose to take the time and document all of this right here...!!!
Thank you blogger!
Me and my new baby!!
I can't believe it!
A) I finally got my new camera
B) I was in NEW YORK CITY to get my new camera
C) I'm going BACK to NEW YORK CITY with my camera to be a part of the gallery opening where 3 (YES THREE!) of my peices will be on display for a whole month!!
YEEHHHAA!
I can't beleive I'm going back!
Well, like I told my mom - back before Seattle:
mom, I'm going to go where the wind takes me - i have to follow the path - it knows what's best - it knows where i have to go and need to be.
A dear friend of mine fwd me a call for submissions for another photo expo - this one is in Arizona.
Arizona.
I have always wanted to see the grand canyon!!
LOL
Now I will flip out if this actually becomes a reality!!
But for now, New York City? I'll see you on Friday!!
A) I finally got my new camera
B) I was in NEW YORK CITY to get my new camera
C) I'm going BACK to NEW YORK CITY with my camera to be a part of the gallery opening where 3 (YES THREE!) of my peices will be on display for a whole month!!
YEEHHHAA!
I can't beleive I'm going back!
Well, like I told my mom - back before Seattle:
mom, I'm going to go where the wind takes me - i have to follow the path - it knows what's best - it knows where i have to go and need to be.
A dear friend of mine fwd me a call for submissions for another photo expo - this one is in Arizona.
Arizona.
I have always wanted to see the grand canyon!!
LOL
Now I will flip out if this actually becomes a reality!!
But for now, New York City? I'll see you on Friday!!
Friday, June 02, 2006
Rudy the Renegade Warrior
This posting is a long one, but it is so very worth the read.
Beleive me - this man's strenght is legendary. He really should be the next president of the United States. Hell, if he were in Canada, he'd get my vote as the next Primeminister hands and feet down!
I've been away, confused, conflicted, excited, depressed, worried, elated, happy, introspective over the past few weeks. I'm hoping that my life will slow down to an even keel, but in the meantime, while I take a break from writing - read this. Very inspirational.
Keep Moving Forward
30/05/2006 12:00:00 AM
Rudy Giuliani dashes through the glass doors of his office reception area and beckons for me to follow him, which I do. It becomes a high-speed chase down the hall. The former New York City mayor has just emerged from the swarming crowds of New York City's St. Patrick's Day parade, but he's not even winded. He's actually energized, as if overdrive is his natural speed. We turn into his private corner office at his security and crisis management firm, Giuliani Partners.
Giuliani slides into a chair at a small round table by a window overlooking the bustle of Times Square. He takes a swig of caffeine-free diet Coke that is sitting on the table.
I glance around at his haphazard office decor. Scattered among the photos of his wife, Judith Nathan, and his two children are the familiar pictures from Ground Zero. There is also a 10-inch white porcelain figure of Winston Churchill, Britain's wartime leader whose words Giuliani has said buoyed him during the first dark days after September 11. Ominously, there's also a bayonet taken from an Al Qaeda soldier in Afghanistan. And on his desk is a laminated sign that reads, "I am responsible."
In the past 4 years, Rudy Giuliani confronted more adversity than most people do in a lifetime: prostate cancer, police scandals, the public unraveling of his marriage, an unfulfilled Senate bid, and the horrendous terrorist attack. I am here in his office, asking the man who, after 9/11, became known as "America's mayor," how he survived it.
Before 9/11, there was little inkling that inside Rudy Giuliani was a deep well of compassion. The only reputation he had was for his toughness. It began early, on the streets of Brooklyn. As a fan of the Bronx-based New York Yankees (and growing up in the shadow of Brooklyn's Ebbets Field, home of the Dodgers), a young Giuliani often had to defend his baseball team with bravado and fisticuffs.
Before 9/11, there was little inkling that inside Rudy Giuliani was a deep well of compassion. The only reputation he had was for his toughness. It began early, on the streets of Brooklyn. As a fan of the Bronx-based New York Yankees (and growing up in the shadow of Brooklyn's Ebbets Field, home of the Dodgers), a young Giuliani often had to defend his baseball team with bravado and fisticuffs.
Later, as a US Attorney, he fought his battles in the courtroom, taking on corrupt Wall Street traders and racketeering mobsters. With each passing year, the Republican Giuliani solidified his hard-nosed reputation. As mayor, he went toe-to-toe with grizzled union negotiators, an aggressive press corps, and vocal Democrats. (One detractor referred to him as the "Mussolini on the Hudson" after the fascist dictator.) His fortitude would soon be tested when he faced his two most challenging crises.
"You Have Cancer"
On April 26, 2000, Dr. Alexander Kirschenbaum of New York's Mount Sinai Hospital called city hall to let Giuliani know his prostate biopsy was positive. The mayor initially thought that "positive" meant he was in the clear. "It took me a second or two (but it seemed like a minute) to translate that into 'Oh my gosh, that's bad news,'" Giuliani says.
Just 3 weeks earlier, during the mayor's annual physical, his doctor took blood to test for prostate-specific antigens (PSA), which can indicate prostate trouble. At first, his physician said the borderline-high PSA results probably weren't much to worry about. But Giuliani's follow-up tests and biopsy confirmed the worst. "The hour before I was told I had prostate cancer, I felt fine," Giuliani recalls. "It's very strange when you're told that you have cancer. You feel like there's this thing inside you, and if you don't figure out exactly the right thing to do about it, it's going to consume you."
Giuliani gathered his children, Andrew, then 14, and Caroline, then 10, early the next morning and broke the news. "I explained to them that I was diagnosed with prostate cancer, that it was early stage and treatable, and that I'd take a little time to figure out exactly the right kind of treatment," he says. "That was probably the hardest, particularly since my father had prostate cancer. He died before they were born, but I remembered having gone through it with him."
At the time, Giuliani was gearing up for an already heated Senate run against former First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton. He now faced a difficult choice: to stay in the race while undergoing cancer treatment or to withdraw. To make that decision, he sought the advice of many colleagues and friends. Though he often appears to be a maverick, the truth is that Giuliani doesn't make major decisions autocratically. There's a loyal team behind him.
"The best thing that helps when you're dealing with fear, stress, or things that confuse you is to talk it out with people," says Giuliani. "Talking to and relying on other people-people you respect, people you like, people that share your outlook on life-are enormously helpful."
During that trying period, Giuliani was estranged from his wife, Donna Hanover, so he turned to then-fiancee Judith Nathan, who had past training as a nurse, for emotional support as well as medical research. He visited the city's, and country's, top doctors for counsel. He also talked to friends. New York Police Commissioner Howard Safir was diagnosed 5 days after the mayor, and New York Yankees Manager Joe Torre had also been treated for prostate cancer.
His friends not only warned of the physical symptoms and side effects-severe fatigue and nausea-but also told Giuliani about the emotional toll the disease takes.
Preparing to Recover
Giuliani eventually chose seed implantation (placing radioactive pellets into the gland) with a follow-up of external radiation to kill any remaining cancer cells. "Once you settle on a treatment option," he says, "you'll relax and have much more of a philosophical attitude about it. You start moving in a positive direction, and your feelings and attitudes change."
He then set out to prepare his body for the stress of the procedures. A lover of fried calamari and steak, Giuliani now asked Gracie Mansion chefs to cook up tomato-based dishes rich in the antioxidant lycopene, which has been shown to fight prostate cancer. He worked out on a treadmill in his office, running 2 to 3 miles a day. "I thought: The better shape I'm in, the more I'll be able to absorb the effect on my body," says Giuliani. Midafternoon naps on his office couch carried him through the exhausting radiation. Giuliani has now been cancer-free since January 15, 2001.
Though many people thought that it was 9/11 that softened the old pugilistic Rudy, he admits that it was the cancer that altered his outlook. "It changed my perspective on life," he says. "It gave me much more of a sense of the need to be healthy, of the value of life, and of the importance of people around you."
That compassion was something Giuliani would need in the coming year. On September 11, 2001, downtown New York turned apocalyptic as two airliners, piloted by terrorists, sliced through a clear blue sky and into the twin towers of the World Trade Center. The mayor was at a breakfast meeting in midtown Manhattan when a staffer informed him of the first plane crash. At the time, no one knew the extent of the damage or if it had been intentional. As he and his colleagues sped to the scene, the second plane hit, engulfing the south tower in an immense fireball. As Giuliani hopped out of the vehicle, the street was showered with debris. He looked up to see pieces of the tower falling. And he saw something else: There were people jumping. He tracked one man's free fall with his eyes, then quickly averted them, continuing his march on foot to Ground Zero.
With their multimillion-dollar emergency bunker in WTC 7 inaccessible, the mayor and his staff quickly set up a makeshift command area in a nearby Merrill Lynch building. There, they tried to contact the White House. Giuliani and his entourage had only been there for a few minutes when they heard the deafening noise of the south tower imploding. They found themselves trapped, and desperately searched for an escape route. Fumbling around in the darkened basement, they couldn't find an unlocked exit until two maintenance men appeared and showed them the way out, to a daytime turned to night.
Making their way through the ghostly, choking clouds that literally blocked the sun, they set up another command center in a nearby firehouse. In describing the scene, Giuliani goes silent for a moment, his eyes moisten, and I get a glimpse of the sensitive man that I'd seen on television, the man who spoke from the heart that many New Yorkers didn't know he had. "You know, getting notified about people that were missing, dead ... there'd be a sense of shock," he says. "Then I would say to myself, 'I cannot think about this now. And I can't feel this now, because I've got to stay focused on keeping everybody together, keeping the city together, and making the right decisions.'"
In the aftermath, Giuliani's heartbreaking response to a reporter's question about casualties-"When we get the final number, it will be more than we can bear"-was prescient. Almost 3,000 people died, and among them were the mayor's close friends, including NYFD Chief Pete Ganci, First Deputy Commissioner Bill Feehan, Special Operations Chief Ray Downey, and fireman Terry Hatton, husband of his long-time executive assistant, Beth Petrone-Hatton. (Giuliani went to the morgue to identify Hatton's remains so that Petrone-Hatton, pregnant with her first child, wouldn't have to.)
And there was fire department chaplain Father Mychal Judge, who had helped the mayor through many personal difficulties. Giuliani last saw the priest everyone called Father Mike the morning of September 11, when he said to the chaplain, "Father, pray for us." "I always do," the priest replied with a big smile as he headed to the scene. Moments later, after ministering to a fallen fireman, Father Mike was struck by falling debris and killed.
"Father Mike is a great man," says Giuliani, apparently unaware that he is using present tense. "I miss him. There are days-even now-when I would just like to call and ask his advice. He would write me notes, particularly if there was something difficult that was going on. He'd sort of explain it and always have some thought in there about how God loves you."
For months after the attack, the mayor remained chief consoler to the city and to the nation. He urged shaken city dwellers to stay resilient as they faced fears of future attacks and anthrax scares. He attended hundreds of heart-wrenching funerals and wakes, as many as six or seven a day. In the midst of all this overwhelming grief, he says, it was a sense of community and spirituality that helped him through.
He recalls attending one wake in Rockland County: "The whole town showed up. It was very sad. But at the same time, you'd see the whole community there, and you'd see a way through this. The way through it was everybody supporting each other, everybody helping each other. It was a very strange mixture of seeing the horrific part of it and seeing the beautiful part of it. Being attacked and under crisis, people who live in freedom have this tremendous strength."
The mayor also took comfort in the words spoken during the religious services. "Growing up Catholic, I was very familiar with the Mass, and I found a great deal of strength in it," he says. "It left me with a strong belief that God has a plan. We don't understand it now, but we will."
The 16-acre area where the twin towers once stood is no longer a vast emptiness. Plans for rebuilding the trade center, long mired in controversy, are starting to progress. And the 58-year-old Giuliani has moved on as well, since leaving office in 2002. His crisis-consulting firm is thriving. He's newly married. His autobiography, Leadership, is a bestseller, and his calendar is filled with high-profile speaking engagements. Yet it takes very little-just a mention of 9/11-to send him back there, to that time of darkness, at Ground Zero the night after the attacks.
Giuliani takes a breath. "I was just walking around, thinking, 'This is going to be much worse than anybody realizes.' And then there would be these times-they would last for seconds-where you'd say to yourself: 'I wonder if we can get through this? I wonder if the city can ... the country can?' And then I would quickly say, 'We just have to. We just don't have a choice. We've just got to keep moving forward.'
"Very often, I sign the book, 'Keep moving forward,' because it was something I kept saying to myself all the time: 'You've got to just keep moving forward. We'll get through this.'" Giuliani leans toward me, then adds, "And we have-by believing it."
Lessons Learned
Rudy Giuliani has a message for men: When it comes to your health, take a cue from women.
"I don't think men do as good a job of taking care of themselves as women do," says the two-term New York City mayor. "Maybe men feel immortal, or maybe they feel it's a sign of weakness to go to the doctor for checkups."
Being proactive helped Giuliani combat prostate cancer, a disease that claims about 30,000 lives every year, including his father's in 1981. A simple prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood test showed that Giuliani was at risk for the disease. His count came back higher than normal, possibly indicating trouble. "If I hadn't taken the PSA test, I wouldn't have found out about the cancer," Giuliani says. "Probably even by now, I wouldn't have found out about it. And it would have just been getting worse; I would have been at risk of being beyond help."
While he didn't have symptoms (which include frequent urination, blood in the urine, or painful ejaculation), the mayor's odds of the disease were greater than most. He clearly had two of the four most common risk factors for prostate cancer: age 55 or older and a family history. Other factors associated with the disease are race (it's more common in African-American men than Caucasians) and a diet high in animal fat. The American Cancer Society recommends PSA blood tests for all men 50 and older, and testing at 45 years old for those in the high-risk group.
Giuliani is now evangelical about early PSA screenings, but he's also a vocal advocate about the importance of overall health as well. "Cancer made me much more aware of the fact that you have to take care of yourself," he says.
When it comes to crisis management, Rudy Giuliani is the go-to guy. Whether you're battling a disease, a personal calamity, or a work-related meltdown, you can learn from his personal experiences.
Keep a cool head:
During the chaos of September 11, Giuliani reverted to past advice from his father: "When you're in a crisis, get calmer. Find a way to be the calmest person in the room as everything around you is getting more excitable, and you'll be able to figure out the answer." Composure enabled Giuliani to prioritize essentials such as finding generators, setting up a family services unit, and preparing for a biological or chemical attack. "I kept reminding myself that there was every reason for everybody to get excited, including me, but it was very important to get calmer," he says. "Calm things down, and just try to focus on what's the right answer and how much you can anticipate of what's going to lie ahead so that you can prepare for it."
Gather information:
Whether it's evidence on top mob bosses or the latest research on prostate cancer, Giuliani constantly seeks facts and figures to overcome the challenges he faces. While a primary source of information is books, he also values face-to-face time, including heated discussions. "I try to encourage people to tell me if they think I'm doing something wrong or tell me their side of an argument," he says. "Debate is part of decision making. I want to hear different opinions."
Surround yourself with a great team:
Giuliani embraces what many eminent generals already know: Strength lies in the support of your troops. While his mayoral staff helped him through many dilemmas, it was after the terrorist attacks that he really leaned on those around him. "A lot of what got me through was knowing I had a very, very strong team," he says. "I could say to myself, 'I've got very good people who've been through emergencies before. People who are experts in these things we're going to have to deal with. Whether it's the police commissioner, the fire commissioner, the head of emergency services, or the head of public health. These people had been through significant numbers of emergencies before.'"
Allow a distraction:
Your mind doesn't constantly have to be on your troubles. During the mayor's radiation treatments, technicians distracted him with a game of "stump the mayor," playing semi-obscure music for the opera buff and seeing if he could guess the works. Even after the terrorist attacks, the mayor took time out to attend his son's freshman football games on Saturday mornings.
Beleive me - this man's strenght is legendary. He really should be the next president of the United States. Hell, if he were in Canada, he'd get my vote as the next Primeminister hands and feet down!
I've been away, confused, conflicted, excited, depressed, worried, elated, happy, introspective over the past few weeks. I'm hoping that my life will slow down to an even keel, but in the meantime, while I take a break from writing - read this. Very inspirational.
Keep Moving Forward
30/05/2006 12:00:00 AM
Rudy Giuliani dashes through the glass doors of his office reception area and beckons for me to follow him, which I do. It becomes a high-speed chase down the hall. The former New York City mayor has just emerged from the swarming crowds of New York City's St. Patrick's Day parade, but he's not even winded. He's actually energized, as if overdrive is his natural speed. We turn into his private corner office at his security and crisis management firm, Giuliani Partners.
Giuliani slides into a chair at a small round table by a window overlooking the bustle of Times Square. He takes a swig of caffeine-free diet Coke that is sitting on the table.
I glance around at his haphazard office decor. Scattered among the photos of his wife, Judith Nathan, and his two children are the familiar pictures from Ground Zero. There is also a 10-inch white porcelain figure of Winston Churchill, Britain's wartime leader whose words Giuliani has said buoyed him during the first dark days after September 11. Ominously, there's also a bayonet taken from an Al Qaeda soldier in Afghanistan. And on his desk is a laminated sign that reads, "I am responsible."
In the past 4 years, Rudy Giuliani confronted more adversity than most people do in a lifetime: prostate cancer, police scandals, the public unraveling of his marriage, an unfulfilled Senate bid, and the horrendous terrorist attack. I am here in his office, asking the man who, after 9/11, became known as "America's mayor," how he survived it.
Before 9/11, there was little inkling that inside Rudy Giuliani was a deep well of compassion. The only reputation he had was for his toughness. It began early, on the streets of Brooklyn. As a fan of the Bronx-based New York Yankees (and growing up in the shadow of Brooklyn's Ebbets Field, home of the Dodgers), a young Giuliani often had to defend his baseball team with bravado and fisticuffs.
Before 9/11, there was little inkling that inside Rudy Giuliani was a deep well of compassion. The only reputation he had was for his toughness. It began early, on the streets of Brooklyn. As a fan of the Bronx-based New York Yankees (and growing up in the shadow of Brooklyn's Ebbets Field, home of the Dodgers), a young Giuliani often had to defend his baseball team with bravado and fisticuffs.
Later, as a US Attorney, he fought his battles in the courtroom, taking on corrupt Wall Street traders and racketeering mobsters. With each passing year, the Republican Giuliani solidified his hard-nosed reputation. As mayor, he went toe-to-toe with grizzled union negotiators, an aggressive press corps, and vocal Democrats. (One detractor referred to him as the "Mussolini on the Hudson" after the fascist dictator.) His fortitude would soon be tested when he faced his two most challenging crises.
"You Have Cancer"
On April 26, 2000, Dr. Alexander Kirschenbaum of New York's Mount Sinai Hospital called city hall to let Giuliani know his prostate biopsy was positive. The mayor initially thought that "positive" meant he was in the clear. "It took me a second or two (but it seemed like a minute) to translate that into 'Oh my gosh, that's bad news,'" Giuliani says.
Just 3 weeks earlier, during the mayor's annual physical, his doctor took blood to test for prostate-specific antigens (PSA), which can indicate prostate trouble. At first, his physician said the borderline-high PSA results probably weren't much to worry about. But Giuliani's follow-up tests and biopsy confirmed the worst. "The hour before I was told I had prostate cancer, I felt fine," Giuliani recalls. "It's very strange when you're told that you have cancer. You feel like there's this thing inside you, and if you don't figure out exactly the right thing to do about it, it's going to consume you."
Giuliani gathered his children, Andrew, then 14, and Caroline, then 10, early the next morning and broke the news. "I explained to them that I was diagnosed with prostate cancer, that it was early stage and treatable, and that I'd take a little time to figure out exactly the right kind of treatment," he says. "That was probably the hardest, particularly since my father had prostate cancer. He died before they were born, but I remembered having gone through it with him."
At the time, Giuliani was gearing up for an already heated Senate run against former First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton. He now faced a difficult choice: to stay in the race while undergoing cancer treatment or to withdraw. To make that decision, he sought the advice of many colleagues and friends. Though he often appears to be a maverick, the truth is that Giuliani doesn't make major decisions autocratically. There's a loyal team behind him.
"The best thing that helps when you're dealing with fear, stress, or things that confuse you is to talk it out with people," says Giuliani. "Talking to and relying on other people-people you respect, people you like, people that share your outlook on life-are enormously helpful."
During that trying period, Giuliani was estranged from his wife, Donna Hanover, so he turned to then-fiancee Judith Nathan, who had past training as a nurse, for emotional support as well as medical research. He visited the city's, and country's, top doctors for counsel. He also talked to friends. New York Police Commissioner Howard Safir was diagnosed 5 days after the mayor, and New York Yankees Manager Joe Torre had also been treated for prostate cancer.
His friends not only warned of the physical symptoms and side effects-severe fatigue and nausea-but also told Giuliani about the emotional toll the disease takes.
Preparing to Recover
Giuliani eventually chose seed implantation (placing radioactive pellets into the gland) with a follow-up of external radiation to kill any remaining cancer cells. "Once you settle on a treatment option," he says, "you'll relax and have much more of a philosophical attitude about it. You start moving in a positive direction, and your feelings and attitudes change."
He then set out to prepare his body for the stress of the procedures. A lover of fried calamari and steak, Giuliani now asked Gracie Mansion chefs to cook up tomato-based dishes rich in the antioxidant lycopene, which has been shown to fight prostate cancer. He worked out on a treadmill in his office, running 2 to 3 miles a day. "I thought: The better shape I'm in, the more I'll be able to absorb the effect on my body," says Giuliani. Midafternoon naps on his office couch carried him through the exhausting radiation. Giuliani has now been cancer-free since January 15, 2001.
Though many people thought that it was 9/11 that softened the old pugilistic Rudy, he admits that it was the cancer that altered his outlook. "It changed my perspective on life," he says. "It gave me much more of a sense of the need to be healthy, of the value of life, and of the importance of people around you."
That compassion was something Giuliani would need in the coming year. On September 11, 2001, downtown New York turned apocalyptic as two airliners, piloted by terrorists, sliced through a clear blue sky and into the twin towers of the World Trade Center. The mayor was at a breakfast meeting in midtown Manhattan when a staffer informed him of the first plane crash. At the time, no one knew the extent of the damage or if it had been intentional. As he and his colleagues sped to the scene, the second plane hit, engulfing the south tower in an immense fireball. As Giuliani hopped out of the vehicle, the street was showered with debris. He looked up to see pieces of the tower falling. And he saw something else: There were people jumping. He tracked one man's free fall with his eyes, then quickly averted them, continuing his march on foot to Ground Zero.
With their multimillion-dollar emergency bunker in WTC 7 inaccessible, the mayor and his staff quickly set up a makeshift command area in a nearby Merrill Lynch building. There, they tried to contact the White House. Giuliani and his entourage had only been there for a few minutes when they heard the deafening noise of the south tower imploding. They found themselves trapped, and desperately searched for an escape route. Fumbling around in the darkened basement, they couldn't find an unlocked exit until two maintenance men appeared and showed them the way out, to a daytime turned to night.
Making their way through the ghostly, choking clouds that literally blocked the sun, they set up another command center in a nearby firehouse. In describing the scene, Giuliani goes silent for a moment, his eyes moisten, and I get a glimpse of the sensitive man that I'd seen on television, the man who spoke from the heart that many New Yorkers didn't know he had. "You know, getting notified about people that were missing, dead ... there'd be a sense of shock," he says. "Then I would say to myself, 'I cannot think about this now. And I can't feel this now, because I've got to stay focused on keeping everybody together, keeping the city together, and making the right decisions.'"
In the aftermath, Giuliani's heartbreaking response to a reporter's question about casualties-"When we get the final number, it will be more than we can bear"-was prescient. Almost 3,000 people died, and among them were the mayor's close friends, including NYFD Chief Pete Ganci, First Deputy Commissioner Bill Feehan, Special Operations Chief Ray Downey, and fireman Terry Hatton, husband of his long-time executive assistant, Beth Petrone-Hatton. (Giuliani went to the morgue to identify Hatton's remains so that Petrone-Hatton, pregnant with her first child, wouldn't have to.)
And there was fire department chaplain Father Mychal Judge, who had helped the mayor through many personal difficulties. Giuliani last saw the priest everyone called Father Mike the morning of September 11, when he said to the chaplain, "Father, pray for us." "I always do," the priest replied with a big smile as he headed to the scene. Moments later, after ministering to a fallen fireman, Father Mike was struck by falling debris and killed.
"Father Mike is a great man," says Giuliani, apparently unaware that he is using present tense. "I miss him. There are days-even now-when I would just like to call and ask his advice. He would write me notes, particularly if there was something difficult that was going on. He'd sort of explain it and always have some thought in there about how God loves you."
For months after the attack, the mayor remained chief consoler to the city and to the nation. He urged shaken city dwellers to stay resilient as they faced fears of future attacks and anthrax scares. He attended hundreds of heart-wrenching funerals and wakes, as many as six or seven a day. In the midst of all this overwhelming grief, he says, it was a sense of community and spirituality that helped him through.
He recalls attending one wake in Rockland County: "The whole town showed up. It was very sad. But at the same time, you'd see the whole community there, and you'd see a way through this. The way through it was everybody supporting each other, everybody helping each other. It was a very strange mixture of seeing the horrific part of it and seeing the beautiful part of it. Being attacked and under crisis, people who live in freedom have this tremendous strength."
The mayor also took comfort in the words spoken during the religious services. "Growing up Catholic, I was very familiar with the Mass, and I found a great deal of strength in it," he says. "It left me with a strong belief that God has a plan. We don't understand it now, but we will."
The 16-acre area where the twin towers once stood is no longer a vast emptiness. Plans for rebuilding the trade center, long mired in controversy, are starting to progress. And the 58-year-old Giuliani has moved on as well, since leaving office in 2002. His crisis-consulting firm is thriving. He's newly married. His autobiography, Leadership, is a bestseller, and his calendar is filled with high-profile speaking engagements. Yet it takes very little-just a mention of 9/11-to send him back there, to that time of darkness, at Ground Zero the night after the attacks.
Giuliani takes a breath. "I was just walking around, thinking, 'This is going to be much worse than anybody realizes.' And then there would be these times-they would last for seconds-where you'd say to yourself: 'I wonder if we can get through this? I wonder if the city can ... the country can?' And then I would quickly say, 'We just have to. We just don't have a choice. We've just got to keep moving forward.'
"Very often, I sign the book, 'Keep moving forward,' because it was something I kept saying to myself all the time: 'You've got to just keep moving forward. We'll get through this.'" Giuliani leans toward me, then adds, "And we have-by believing it."
Lessons Learned
Rudy Giuliani has a message for men: When it comes to your health, take a cue from women.
"I don't think men do as good a job of taking care of themselves as women do," says the two-term New York City mayor. "Maybe men feel immortal, or maybe they feel it's a sign of weakness to go to the doctor for checkups."
Being proactive helped Giuliani combat prostate cancer, a disease that claims about 30,000 lives every year, including his father's in 1981. A simple prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood test showed that Giuliani was at risk for the disease. His count came back higher than normal, possibly indicating trouble. "If I hadn't taken the PSA test, I wouldn't have found out about the cancer," Giuliani says. "Probably even by now, I wouldn't have found out about it. And it would have just been getting worse; I would have been at risk of being beyond help."
While he didn't have symptoms (which include frequent urination, blood in the urine, or painful ejaculation), the mayor's odds of the disease were greater than most. He clearly had two of the four most common risk factors for prostate cancer: age 55 or older and a family history. Other factors associated with the disease are race (it's more common in African-American men than Caucasians) and a diet high in animal fat. The American Cancer Society recommends PSA blood tests for all men 50 and older, and testing at 45 years old for those in the high-risk group.
Giuliani is now evangelical about early PSA screenings, but he's also a vocal advocate about the importance of overall health as well. "Cancer made me much more aware of the fact that you have to take care of yourself," he says.
When it comes to crisis management, Rudy Giuliani is the go-to guy. Whether you're battling a disease, a personal calamity, or a work-related meltdown, you can learn from his personal experiences.
Keep a cool head:
During the chaos of September 11, Giuliani reverted to past advice from his father: "When you're in a crisis, get calmer. Find a way to be the calmest person in the room as everything around you is getting more excitable, and you'll be able to figure out the answer." Composure enabled Giuliani to prioritize essentials such as finding generators, setting up a family services unit, and preparing for a biological or chemical attack. "I kept reminding myself that there was every reason for everybody to get excited, including me, but it was very important to get calmer," he says. "Calm things down, and just try to focus on what's the right answer and how much you can anticipate of what's going to lie ahead so that you can prepare for it."
Gather information:
Whether it's evidence on top mob bosses or the latest research on prostate cancer, Giuliani constantly seeks facts and figures to overcome the challenges he faces. While a primary source of information is books, he also values face-to-face time, including heated discussions. "I try to encourage people to tell me if they think I'm doing something wrong or tell me their side of an argument," he says. "Debate is part of decision making. I want to hear different opinions."
Surround yourself with a great team:
Giuliani embraces what many eminent generals already know: Strength lies in the support of your troops. While his mayoral staff helped him through many dilemmas, it was after the terrorist attacks that he really leaned on those around him. "A lot of what got me through was knowing I had a very, very strong team," he says. "I could say to myself, 'I've got very good people who've been through emergencies before. People who are experts in these things we're going to have to deal with. Whether it's the police commissioner, the fire commissioner, the head of emergency services, or the head of public health. These people had been through significant numbers of emergencies before.'"
Allow a distraction:
Your mind doesn't constantly have to be on your troubles. During the mayor's radiation treatments, technicians distracted him with a game of "stump the mayor," playing semi-obscure music for the opera buff and seeing if he could guess the works. Even after the terrorist attacks, the mayor took time out to attend his son's freshman football games on Saturday mornings.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Floating on a dream
I just got back from NYC last night.
God. I love that place - everything seems so familliar to me - even my internal compass manages to set itself right away - I can't seem to get lost there - it's as if I have lived there before - perhaps only in my mind...
I remember the first time I went to Central Park - what an experience!
When I think back to the kind of feeling that New York gives me at night (especially last night - the streets were soo quiet) - this is the image it evokes.
I am one with the city - it's my element where I float freely and gracefully...
God. I love that place - everything seems so familliar to me - even my internal compass manages to set itself right away - I can't seem to get lost there - it's as if I have lived there before - perhaps only in my mind...
I remember the first time I went to Central Park - what an experience!
When I think back to the kind of feeling that New York gives me at night (especially last night - the streets were soo quiet) - this is the image it evokes.
I am one with the city - it's my element where I float freely and gracefully...
Monday, May 15, 2006
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Man's search for meaning.
I am giving my mother a picture for mother's day.
It's a picture of the sculpture that I saw in NYC, and I superimposed a quote by Victor Frankl on it. It's so beautiful, I had to make a copy for myself.
The quote was so apropriate, and the image meant so much to me - that moment of new beginings, of new perspective, it all made sense.
Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.
I hope it touches her the same way it touched me.
I'll let you know.
Happy mother's day :-)
Some quotes by Victor Frank that were too inspiring not to share...
A human being is a deciding being.
Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.
Challenging the meaning of life is the truest expression of the state of being human.
Each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.
Fear may come true that which one is afraid of.
Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life; everyone must carry out a concrete assignment that demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated, thus, everyone's task is unique as his specific opportunity to implement it.
For the meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day and from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person's life at a given moment.
Just as a small fire is extinguished by the storm whereas a large fire is enhanced by it-likewise a weak faith is weakened by predicament and catastrophes whereas a strong faith is strengthened by them.
Life can be pulled by goals just as surely as it can be pushed by drives.
Live as if you were living a second time, and as though you had acted wrongly the first time.
Only to the extent that someone is living out this self transcendence of human existence, is he truly human or does he become his true self. He becomes so, not by concerning himself with his self's actualization, but by forgetting himself and giving himself, overlooking himself and focusing outward.
The last of human freedoms - the ability to chose one's attitude in a given set of circumstances.
Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather he must recognize that it is he who is asked.
What is to give light must endure burning.
When we are no longer able to change a situation - we are challenged to change ourselves.
It's a picture of the sculpture that I saw in NYC, and I superimposed a quote by Victor Frankl on it. It's so beautiful, I had to make a copy for myself.
The quote was so apropriate, and the image meant so much to me - that moment of new beginings, of new perspective, it all made sense.
Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.
I hope it touches her the same way it touched me.
I'll let you know.
Happy mother's day :-)
Some quotes by Victor Frank that were too inspiring not to share...
A human being is a deciding being.
Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.
Challenging the meaning of life is the truest expression of the state of being human.
Each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.
Fear may come true that which one is afraid of.
Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life; everyone must carry out a concrete assignment that demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated, thus, everyone's task is unique as his specific opportunity to implement it.
For the meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day and from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person's life at a given moment.
Just as a small fire is extinguished by the storm whereas a large fire is enhanced by it-likewise a weak faith is weakened by predicament and catastrophes whereas a strong faith is strengthened by them.
Life can be pulled by goals just as surely as it can be pushed by drives.
Live as if you were living a second time, and as though you had acted wrongly the first time.
Only to the extent that someone is living out this self transcendence of human existence, is he truly human or does he become his true self. He becomes so, not by concerning himself with his self's actualization, but by forgetting himself and giving himself, overlooking himself and focusing outward.
The last of human freedoms - the ability to chose one's attitude in a given set of circumstances.
Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather he must recognize that it is he who is asked.
What is to give light must endure burning.
When we are no longer able to change a situation - we are challenged to change ourselves.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
The road is long, and keeps on getting longer...
So today was supposed to be mom's last day for chemo.
She was only supposed to have chemo for 4 weeks and that was it.
it all changed today.
Her white blood cell count was too low to get her treatment.
She has to go in Monday and take another blood test, and then the doctor will decide what to do next.
He also said: if I were you, or you were my relative, I'd say go on the chemo for a year - as supplemental therapy.
She flatly refused.
She says that she has to work - to pay her mortgage, her car bills, to live.
She says that she can't afford to take the chance that she will be too sick to work. Her job has lots of responsibilities, and she would only go to 1/2 salary after 6 months. Not enough to pay the bills.
When she told me that, I flipped.
She has pretty much signed her death certificate and is taking a big chance with her future and health.
I think she is just being stubborn (and talks about losing her hair) and is thinking too much about work when she should really be thinking about herself.
but it all comes down to money
what she needs, what she doesn't have, what she won't have...
I was stunned today.
I had made her a nice card that said : "welcome home from your long journey".
But the journey has just begun again, and it's a long road. Perhaps too fucken long for her, and I am so upset that she has decided not to go on the chemo for a year.
It's not like it's gonna be every day, 3 times a week, 1/2 the dose that she is getting now.
1/2 the exhaustion, 1/2 the dose, and as I told her - you take on 1/2 of the stress at work.
but she is stubborn, and I fear that vanity and fear of poverty are going to drive her to make a decision.
And I thought that it would be smooth sailing, but this mother's day will definitely be a special one, and hopefully , not the last...
She was only supposed to have chemo for 4 weeks and that was it.
it all changed today.
Her white blood cell count was too low to get her treatment.
She has to go in Monday and take another blood test, and then the doctor will decide what to do next.
He also said: if I were you, or you were my relative, I'd say go on the chemo for a year - as supplemental therapy.
She flatly refused.
She says that she has to work - to pay her mortgage, her car bills, to live.
She says that she can't afford to take the chance that she will be too sick to work. Her job has lots of responsibilities, and she would only go to 1/2 salary after 6 months. Not enough to pay the bills.
When she told me that, I flipped.
She has pretty much signed her death certificate and is taking a big chance with her future and health.
I think she is just being stubborn (and talks about losing her hair) and is thinking too much about work when she should really be thinking about herself.
but it all comes down to money
what she needs, what she doesn't have, what she won't have...
I was stunned today.
I had made her a nice card that said : "welcome home from your long journey".
But the journey has just begun again, and it's a long road. Perhaps too fucken long for her, and I am so upset that she has decided not to go on the chemo for a year.
It's not like it's gonna be every day, 3 times a week, 1/2 the dose that she is getting now.
1/2 the exhaustion, 1/2 the dose, and as I told her - you take on 1/2 of the stress at work.
but she is stubborn, and I fear that vanity and fear of poverty are going to drive her to make a decision.
And I thought that it would be smooth sailing, but this mother's day will definitely be a special one, and hopefully , not the last...
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Sometimes its the wings of desire that break us
I am going down that road again.
Why don't I learn to keep myself out of trouble?
I thought that the office season's finale would be a funny one.
It was - it was great, and it's my favorite show, but damm.
Shame on NBC for making such great season finales!!
I was so choked up by Jim and Pam's plight.
Romeo and Juliet minus the drama, keep a dash of irony, and throw in the 'cut to black - end of season finale' finality.
So sad, yet so sweet.
We've all been there.
I, perhaps, have been there more times than most...
(dry chuckles from the peanut gallery)
Could it be part of 'the true artist's makeup"?
This book is amazing.
run to get it.
If you consider yourself to be a little off the beaten path, worn around the edges and living through your art - read it.
And if you are someone who knows someone like this - read it too.
so to keep myself from wallowing in romantic yet tragic melancholy, I am going to open a cold beer, grab a bag of hot buttered popcorn, put the pms monster to bed, and pop in one of my all time favorite movies.
It give me hope that angels to have wings, and that dreams can come true.
A line from the poem which starts the film
Song of Childhood By Peter Handke
When the child was a child,
it had no opinion about anything,
had no habits,
it often sat cross-legged, took off running,
had a cowlick in its hair, and made no faces when photographed.
When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Is life under the sun not just a dream?
Is what I see and hear and smell not just an illusion of a world before the world?
Given the facts of evil and people,
does evil really exist?
How can it be that I, who I am,
didn't exist before I came to be,
and that, someday,
I, who I am,
will no longer be who I am?
When the child was a child,
It threw a stick like a lance against a tree,
And it quivers there still today.
***
If only I could look at lifewithh those eyes of a child again...
Why don't I learn to keep myself out of trouble?
I thought that the office season's finale would be a funny one.
It was - it was great, and it's my favorite show, but damm.
Shame on NBC for making such great season finales!!
I was so choked up by Jim and Pam's plight.
Romeo and Juliet minus the drama, keep a dash of irony, and throw in the 'cut to black - end of season finale' finality.
So sad, yet so sweet.
We've all been there.
I, perhaps, have been there more times than most...
(dry chuckles from the peanut gallery)
Could it be part of 'the true artist's makeup"?
This book is amazing.
run to get it.
If you consider yourself to be a little off the beaten path, worn around the edges and living through your art - read it.
And if you are someone who knows someone like this - read it too.
so to keep myself from wallowing in romantic yet tragic melancholy, I am going to open a cold beer, grab a bag of hot buttered popcorn, put the pms monster to bed, and pop in one of my all time favorite movies.
It give me hope that angels to have wings, and that dreams can come true.
A line from the poem which starts the film
Song of Childhood By Peter Handke
When the child was a child,
it had no opinion about anything,
had no habits,
it often sat cross-legged, took off running,
had a cowlick in its hair, and made no faces when photographed.
When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Is life under the sun not just a dream?
Is what I see and hear and smell not just an illusion of a world before the world?
Given the facts of evil and people,
does evil really exist?
How can it be that I, who I am,
didn't exist before I came to be,
and that, someday,
I, who I am,
will no longer be who I am?
When the child was a child,
It threw a stick like a lance against a tree,
And it quivers there still today.
***
If only I could look at lifewithh those eyes of a child again...
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