Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

The world is filled with miracles and overflowing with beauty. Each living being on this Earth is a wonder. We humans, drift about, often blind to the life that thrives around us. We become so caught up in our daily trials...whether it be work, family, or financial issues...we all have a lot on out plates. We become disconnected from the beautiful world in which we live. Sometimes, the universe intervenes, and reminds us of the wondrous miracles that surround us.

These miracles can come in all shapes and sizes. I watch my garden grow with joy and pride, knowing I planted them from seeds. I gather strength and inspiration from trees, as they reach their limbs towards the heavens, and their roots deep into the earth. We should ground ourselves deeply, and reach just as high. (It's no wonder tree pose is my favorite yoga pose. Perhaps a topic for another day? Ah! Don't you love when the gears start really turning?) Among this miracle and that miracle...some truly stand out. They shape you, change you. Change your heart....or rather, they open your heart.

Monday Evening: The first thing I saw was a shock of yellow, which, in that same instant began to move. Startled by the sudden movement, I jumped back and looked down. It was a baby bird, fallen from it's nest. (I later figured out that the nest seemed to have been abandoned.) His little mouth, (the brilliant yellow of a daffodil) was agape and asking for food as he stretched his neck as high as he could.

My father has a way with animals. They trust him. He rescued a praying mantis from Halloween Spiderwebs. He saved a bird that flew into our window. He's like the protector of all the little guys who can't protect themselves. A superhero version of Snow White. He hurried over, scooped the little bird up and carried him across the street to our home. We brought him into the yard, where we dug up some worms for food and checked to see if he was injured. The little guy was shaken, but OK. So, we build a make-shift nest for him out of dead leaves and grass in a shoebox and after about an hour in our care, we brought him back to the tree we found him next to, and watched from a safe distance to see if Mama Bird would show up.

Night fell, and there was still no Mama Bird.

The only thing we could do was take him in for the night to keep him out of harms way, and find a wildlife rehab center in the morning to nurse him back to health. After a few more bites of mushed up earthworms, we tucked him away in his little Nine West Nest, placed a hot water bottle next to his box in our garage to keep him warm and we said goodnight, knowing that he might not make it to morning. That night, I barely slept. All I could think of was his little chirp, and all I could see was his sweet face, reaching for food.

The sun crept through my window, and I woke with a start. 5:27. My brother and I walked to the garage, afraid of what we might find. But when we opened the door, we were greeted by a cheery little chirp! "He made it! He's alive!" We couldn't believe it. But the most incredible moment, was when my Dad walked into the room. The bird saw him, and began to clamber out of his box with outstretched wings and a chirp so energetic that I thought all of the neighborhood birds would be outside our window.

"No, no, Junior. That's the kind of behavior that got you in trouble in the first place."
With a chirp of defiance, he continued to climb out of the Nine West Nest, into my Dad's palm, nuzzled up and fell asleep. It wasn't until we tried to put him back in the little nest that he started up again. He climbed back up to my Dad's hands, and tried to stand as he flapped his tiny, not-quite-fully-developed wings. After a few attempts, he finally decided to stay in the nest and we began to take care of him. We fed him mashed worms from an eyedropper and contacted all of the wildlife rehab centers we could find in our area. Some weren't open, some weren't accepting animals at the time.

Dad would call every 2 hours or so: "How's Junior?" Apparently, our little friend had a name.
Throughout the day, he was fine. Eating, chirping, and doing a little poop dance every time he made. (He wiggles his butt, fluffs his tail stretches aaaaand poop! It's quite possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. Yes, this baby bird turned pooping into an "Awww!" moment.)

The day went on. Suddenly it was Night #2 that Junior would be in our care, and we still hadn't found somewhere to take him in. So, last night we tucked him away the same way we did the night before. Hot water bottle, and all.

My alarm was set for 6:00 AM this morning, so I could get up and feed Junior. My brother and I went to the garage, he gingerly lifted the box and put it back down right away. He turned to me.
"He didn't make it." My heart dropped. The helpless little bird, fighter that he was, didn't make it through his second night.

And suddenly I was eight years old again, standing next to my father as he buried my hamster in the backyard. Fifteen years later, we dug a small hole for Junior's Nine West Nest (which we had covered and sealed), and I stood beside my parents and brother as we placed him into the Earth. In accordance to the Jewish Tradition, we each took a turn at covering the small grave. In my mind, that act is representative of facing the loss...of saying goodbye. As we buried him, I realized that somehow, in just one day, this spunky little bird had reached into my heart and made a place for himself there.

I truly believe that everything that happens, happens for a reason.

It was a miracle that the little bird survived his fall.
It was a miracle that we found him, instead of the neighborhood cat.
It was a miracle that he survived the first night, and the entire next day.


The biggest miracle, I think, was how he opened our hearts to love. To the beauty of the world, and reminded us all what is truly important.


As you go about your day, take a few minutes to pause and reflect on the miracles that surround us. Whether it be the chirping birds as they soar with grace, or a sturdy tree swaying in the wind...open your hearts to the beauty around you. Take it in, and allow yourself to be a part of it. Reconnect. Let go of the concerns that clutter you, and welcome the beauty of the world...the beauty of life.

^Nestled in his Nine West Nest ^

In my Dad's hand, dozing. He doesn't want the worm!


"FEED ME!"

If you ever come across a baby bird fallen from it's nest, PLEASE, do what the pro's say. Unfortunately, I did not know this information before we found him.

http://www.volunteersforwildlife.org/featherless-baby-bird/

http://www.volunteersforwildlife.org/storage/Copy%20of%20Baby%20Season%20Handout%20Insert%20with%20Newsletter.pdf

Have a beautiful day, everyone.

go with the flow

I adore winter, I really do. But this year, it wore me out. I caught a mean case of the winter blues, and crawled into hibernation. At the encouragement of a friend, I started thinking about getting more involved with yoga. I had already begun practicing meditation each evening, but I wasn't quite ready to commit to a full fledged yoga practice. I wasn't ready for it's power.

One gray morning, I woke up with my usual aches from a restless night. My body wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, when I caught a glimpse of my old yoga mat, abandoned in the corner. I thought: "Maybe today?" I'd been awake 20 minutes and was already anticipating the dreary day ahead of me. "No, I'm too tired." In an attempt to relax, I browsed facebook and youtube for inspiration to get my day started when I came upon my friend's youtube page. He spoke of turning intention into action.

So after a full day of uninspired work, I discovered the power of yoga in a 90 minute hot class. Yoga pulled me out of the doldrums, cured my wintry blues and set my soul on fire. It reminded me how to dance in the rain, and how to feel alive. It rejuvenates me. It focuses me. It fills my body with strength. I feel happy, quiet, strong and healthy when I do yoga. Now, I am certainly not a yogini by any means. Not yet. But the influence yoga has had on me the past few months is transforming my life in all the best ways possible.

I've spent many days and nights distressing over what I want to do in this world. I don't have a steady job right now. And my path? It's still a little covered with moss. I haven't quite found it yet. During a yoga session, many people focus on the finished product...the final pose. I like to focus on the in-between. There is a graceful fluidity of yoga as you move between poses, and if you are in tune to it, the whole practice becomes like a dance. And when I finally do ground myself in the pose...it feels that much stronger because I enjoyed getting there. Then I move into something new.

Life isn't about the finished product, it's about the journey. Through my practice, I've figured out not to worry quite so much about where I'm going, and to just keep moving to whatever comes next.

As it began to rain tonight, I ran out to my driveway and welcomed the storm. The rain was thick and heavy as it fell from the sky, and before I knew it I was dancing and laughing with joy. Ain't life grand? :)

One Droplet.

In the vastness of this universe, we exist on one small dot. We are one part of what makes up something much bigger than ourselves. Imagine this window is the universe, and just one of these droplets is Earth. We all exist on that small droplet, living out our hopes and dreams. Experiencing loss, love, fear, joy, happiness. Everything in the history of the world that has ever happened has happened on that droplet. How magnificently humbling.

I think that this video truly sums up my thoughts on this photo. Please check it out.

Pale Blue Dot

H.O.P.E.

First, I want to apologize. I have been having some computer issues which resulted in a dead laptop this weekend, making it very difficult to get some free time on the family computer to write. I'll be back on track this week, and I'm hoping to bring some extra photos to the table each day for you all to make up for the past few days. Tonight however, I want to share something special. This was passed on to me by my neighbor from sophomore year (thank you, Allison!).

Now, I know this is not a photograph, however it is a very touching project and photos are a part of it.

http://thisiseleveneleven.com/

I hope that I do this story justice, I am summarizing it here to introduce you to it. I suggest checking out the website though to read this touching story.

Eleven/Eleven is a project being done by a young woman who lost her mother to cancer. Her goal is to fold 1000 paper cranes, as a message of hope. Paper Cranes are a symbol of good health according to Ancient Japanese Legend, so when her mother was sick, her sister folded 1000 cranes. The cranes became symbolic of not just good health, but of the love and hope they provided. They also served as a bonding experience for the sisters and their mother.

Now, her goal is to personlly fold 1000 paper cranes as a response to requests for hope. It's like an answer to your prayers taking form as a paper crane. She will send you the crane and as a response you take a photograph of where the crane is living, and post it to her website. To me, this is a true act of love. It is an act which will connect people and thread humanity together while weaving the great web of hope. We all have hope and it exists in many different forms. Let us recognize that we are not so different. We share a lot more than we realize. I hope for the more beautiful world we all know is possible. I hope for humanity connected. I hope for the well being of my friends and family. I hope for a world that is cancer-free. I hope for many many things. What do you hope for? Place yourself on the thread of humanity by recognizing your own hopes, and then recognizing that the person sitting across from you on the subway might be hoping for the exact same thing. Separation is an illusion. If they are not hoping for the same, isn't it enough to know that they are hoping for something?

Connect yourself to humanity, and to this cause. Let us spin that great web of hope together. In doing so, you will not only provide this young woman hope but she will provide you with a hope as well. A hope for whatever it is that you hope for.

We are one human race, all existing in the same space. Share the hope, share the love.

H.O.P.E.

--Thank you to Allison Berger for sending the link for this project my way. And Thank you to Kaleena, for the inspiration and for sharing hope. Your story and this project truly touched my heart, as I'm sure it has to countless others. Best of luck!

"I won't grow up!"

This precious child sleeps, as New Yorkers fly through Penn Station in the whirlwind of the big apple. When I look at children, I see hope. In fact, it may be that children are the world's greatest hope. They know how to laugh and play, and they experience the world with curiosity. And with them, we can undo humanity's great flaw: Separation. Teach love, and the world will be filled with it. Teach bitterness, bigotry, and hate...well, then the world will be filled with it.

Where does our inner child go when we grow up? At what point does a soul become so jaded with the world that it is no longer a miracle, and that each day is no longer an adventure? It breaks my heart to know that so many people lose that appetite for life that children have. We must never let go of our childish instincts.

"Children find everything in nothing; men find nothing in everything." ~Giacomo Leopardi, an Italian poet in the early 1800s.

here comes the sun

"Adopt the pace of nature. Her secret is patience."
--Emerson

all the small things

Found these delightful little critters scattered about the 8th avenue subway station. Just a pleasant little reminder to find joy in the simplicities of life. Take a look around, and enjoy the world.

Children approach each day with wonder in their eyes, amazed by everything they see. As we grow up we tend to lose that ability as we get caught up in our every day lives. Let's recapture that! You'd be surprised at how invigorating it can be to laugh at getting stuck in the rain instead of grumbling.

Live each day with passion and joy. :)

lean on me, when you're not strong

I Had some technical difficulties tonight, so I had to use the family computer to blog. Unable to access my new photograph for tonight I was left with facebook photos for inspiration.

I stumbled across this.

This simple photograph is so loaded. It was taken towards the end of my first THON weekend(For any non-Penn Staters, THON is the world's largest student run philanthropy project which raises money to fight pediatric cancer. Fundraising culminates in a 46 hour dance marathon.) Now, for those of you not too familiar with THON, I truly believe that it is the greatest display of the human spirit. It is humanity connected. People inspiring each other, and literally leaning on each other for strength when their bodies want to quit. It is a circle of inspiration, love and hope.

We should never be ashamed to ask for a shoulder to lean on. We are not as different as we perceive ourselves to be. We are all just people, trying to exist in happiness. Yet sometimes, the world gets a little too heavy to hold on your own. THON provides not just one shoulder, but thousands of shoulders.

And today, on Martin Luther King day, I cannot help but think about the value of the kind of love and hope that THON provides; or of the miraculous strength that comes in numbers. However we must never underestimate the power of the individual. MLK had a message of love and peace that we are still striving towards. He was one man. Individual acts of love truly add up, and can trigger such a domino effect. His message reverberates 43 years after his assassination; and we, so fresh into the new year with new acts of violence, hatred and cruelty haunting us, can hear his message more clearly than ever. We must put this self-made separation of humanity behind us. Connect with humanity by showing love and kindness towards humanity.

This all brings me back to my dream of every human on this planet holding hands...providing a pulse of love to a stranger in need. But when I look around the world, I see this pulse is already traveling. When it reaches you, don't drop it. Pass the pulse. Share the love.

a different kind of vibes man.

"Moses Josiah: Musical Saw Player"

I'm terrible at navigating myself through new subway lines. I'm used to the ACE/123, those I can handle. No problem. But today I had to take the L train. Now, when I'm taking a new line I have a tendency to wander, following signs and then waiting on platforms...never certain if I'm in the right spot until I get on the train. But in my wanderings today, I heard this eerily wonderful sound. It seemed to narrate my wandering, which I loved.

When I came out into the opening I saw groups of people leaning on pillars and walls, circled around the source of the sound. They had all stopped to admire this strange sound. I had never heard anything quite like it. Somewhere between a flute and a violin...maybe? Anyway...there, you will find the sound of the saw. Eerie, haunting and simply beautiful.

I think the mere fact that this man was playing the saw, and the commuters were so very mesmerized by it restates an earlier post. Music is our language. It is our roots. People will go to any length to find a way to express themselves musically. Musical expression is not reserved for musicians. Musical expression is human. iPods are always playing, we are always humming a tune, or tapping our feet. Music is in our blood.

Music is prayer, worship, devotion, celebration, joy, pain, sorrow, depression, love, hate, rebellion, confusion, and every other human emotion imaginable. It makes us dance. I believe it was Victor Hugo who said: "Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent."

But most simply, it is everywhere. It is the sound of humanity, and a true celebration of life.

The Pulse of Humanity

A group of friends on their way home after a day spent in NYC.

Friends are simply wonderful. They make life more exciting and they make you feel like you are a part of something. You feel connected.

Imagine the entire world, connected. Friends.

I had a dream the other night where every single human being on this planet held hands and encircled the world. People came together, and we were connected. Then, one person squeezed their neighbors hand. The pulse traveled the circle and traveled the people. As they received it, they became humbled and highly aware of their connection with everyone else. They did not all know each other, yet they were all friends. This pulse erased all sense of separation within humanity. Finally, it reached the one who started it and I woke up, equally humbled and equally aware.

Imagine the power of that pulse.

That pulse does not necessarily have to take place in the act of holding hands with the rest of the world, as it did in my dream. That pulse can take form in the act of friendship and kindness and well...that pulse...it's pure love. Each act of love creates an endless chain of reactions which somehow, someday, will come back to you.

Urban Cowboys and a Leap of Faith

Cubicle Blues

Broken down dreams all wash away
with each sip of coffee taken to get through the day.
Why aren't we living?
Time ain't forgiving of the hours and minutes we idle away.
Contained by cubicles and stuck in stalls.
The ghost of ambition drifts through the halls.
As we waste our precious hours,
and precious days behind desks, tied to phones.

Losing would be thoughts and has been dreams
down to the unknown.
We don't know where we're going,
all we know is where we’ve been.
And that something finally snapped,
something stirred from deep within.

Before I continue, I want to thank Catherine McCarthy for the discussions we had and ideas we exchanged that wound up in tonight's entry.

This Urban Cowboy is a man who followed his passion. Competing in rodeos is not necessarily the status quo, yet, there he is. Hailing a taxi so he can catch his flight to the next rodeo competition. We should never be ashamed to want more than what society tells us we should want. If you want to be a cowboy, and compete in rodeos...DO IT. If you want to go on a bike tour across the country to learn about sustainability (shout out to the Cultural REcyclists...check out this amazing group of people, and their incredible journey at: www.culturalrecyclists.org!!!) then DO IT. If you want to go teach english abroad...DO IT. The only thing stopping you is yourself. We should never be afraid to take that leap of faith, for as we venture out into the unknown, we will find that opportunity awaits.

If we are able to muster our courage and jump off the metaphorical cliff, we will discover a happier life. Those that don't take chances wind up living with the ghosts of sadness and regret. Sadness will slow you down with his constant clinging as regret dances around you, regaling you with tales of everything you could have done and the person you could have been.

So when you find yourself at the edge of that cliff wondering: "To jump, or not to jump?" what will you do? Look through the pages of your life's history and recognize the cliffs that you walked away from. What was it that caused you to walk away? Fear. We allow fear to consume us, paralyzing us on the edge of our cliff and ultimately convincing us to walk away. We mustn't turn our backs on the adventures that life has in store for us. Grab the bull by the horns (had to throw in a rodeo reference!), trust your journey, trust your dreams and take that blind leap. Beyond the cliff, you will find the thrill of living as you experience the life you were meant to live.

And don't wait until tomorrow. Live your dreams. The time is now.

Ta-Dah!

Dear Readers, I kid you not. This woman danced down the escalator and struck this ta-dah pose as she waited for her family who followed closely behind (unfortunately, they were not the Von-Trapp Family Dancers.) She was so full of joy, that I could not help but smile. Her family, clearly used to this kind of behavior from dear mommy, smiled and laughed along with her.

This is the portrait of a woman celebrating life.

Picture two gears. One, is you. The individual. The other is the world around the individual. The machine they run is happiness. Every person has this gear within them. Most of the time, we are too focused on getting the first gear running, that the second gets neglected. We forget that it, too, needs some oil and perhaps to have the rust scrubbed off.

The machine cannot run with just one gear.

So let's say this machine is broken (as so many machines sadly are). We look at the first gear and we can't figure out what went wrong. We futz with it, we toy with it....nothing. So, we move onto the next gear. Examining it by itself. We focus on that. Futzing around...yielding no results. When we turn to our own ego to find happiness we become so consumed with "Why am I not happy?? What's wrong with me?" We change jobs. We move. We change majors. We change friends. We drink. We smoke. We seek professional help, we even turn to mood altering medication. And in some cases, the individual may need professional help or mood altering meds. But most of the time, if we step out of our ego and focus not on each individual gear, but rather on how the gears fit together...then after some elbow grease and soul searching the gears will lock into place and the machine will work.

Happiness comes does not come from the ego. Yet, it does not come from ignoring your ego and searching everywhere but yourself. It comes from exploring yourself within the world around you. It comes from celebrating the joys of the world around you...such as wrapping up a day spent with your beautiful family in New York City. If happiness beckons you, act on it. Who cares what people think as you dance down an escalator? You're happy! If you skip through the torrential downpour while spinning your umbrella Gene Kelly style...so what?

Celebrate life, ta-dah style.

We are all contributors

Meet Duffy.

We adopted him from North Shore Animal League maybe 3 years ago. They told us that when they rescued him they found him somewhere in the south, alone. How he wound up there...nobody knows. But he was brought to Long Island and spent the next several months in a cage with occasional play time whenever a family thought he might be the right dog for them.

Then we came along, and the rest is history.

I have a suspicion that in the months before Duffy was rescued, he was abused. He hates being pet in a certain spot on his leg, and he can be quite jumpy. Otherwise, he is a remarkably grateful, loving dog.

He is a picture of love. In a world where he was abandoned, possibly abused, and then caged while being rejected by family after family...he still found room in his heart to love us. He did not allow the pain he experienced to turn him against the world. He could have very easily turned out to be a scared dog, traumatized by the pain of the first year of his life.

This abuse must not happen.

We are equal to the creatures of this planet. After all, we are one of them. This planet belongs to them as much as it belongs to us, and yet, we treat it and them with such little respect. This brings us back to separation as the root problem of humanity. We must realize that we are no better than the dog, the horse, the snake or the mosquito.

We are all contributors to this great planet.

imagine there's no heaven.

I took this photograph with the intent of writing about our connection to our beautiful planet Earth. However, in light of recent events the photo has inspired me in another way.

My 19 year old brother is a student at the University of Maryland. He is studying astrophysics, and can probably tell you anything about the universe/space. To make a little bit of spending money, he works at the University Observatory every once in a while. Sometimes he works an Observatory Open House, sometimes he works the telescopes...who knows. But he works there with a small group of other students, all of whom are so enamored by astronomy, that they trek through the woods to get to their place of worship, and they spend hours in prayer like devotion gazing up to the night sky and imagining the possibilities that exist out there. Imagining if they will ever have the opportunity to be gazing back at Earth from the moon, or in my brothers case, Mars.

Tonight, my 19 year old brother, staggered out into the living room in shock. He mumbled something, I don't remember what. All I remember is the shock I heard in his voice. He had just received an email from the woman who runs the Observatory notifying all Observatory employees that one of the students, a young man named Justin, who worked there was found dead in his off-campus home this morning. Shot. Homicide.

A young man, 21...maybe 22, shot dead. A life cut short by an act of violence.

Violence is a poisonous seed that grows and spreads it's roots throughout the world. We must not allow these roots to take hold. We must not allow them to penetrate our hearts.

I have also been particularly upset by the shooting in Arizona.
Victims:
-Judge John Roll ,63
-Dorthy Morris, 76
-Dorwin Stoddard, 76
-Phyllis Scheck, 79
-Gabriel Zimmerman, 30
-and NINE year old Christina Greene. This child was born on 9/11/01. She entered this world during an act of violence, yet to her parents she represented hope. She left this world in an act of violence.

We are slowly destroying our own world and our own lives with these acts of violence. Families are torn apart, hearts are broken and humanity is left hurt and confused. However, acts of violence often result in a bigger act of love.

After 9/11/01, an outpour of love came from all over the country and world. People were desperate to help, to comfort those who lost someone and to help the recovery. I got together with a friend and made over 100 sandwiches which were delivered to the search teams and rescue workers at Ground Zero.

After the Virginia Tech shooting, a vigil was held on Old Main lawn back at Penn State. I went, I cried, I prayed. Penn State was one of the hundreds of schools that reached out to the Hokies. During our Blue and White game (basically: free football scrimmage! Go State, Beat....State?) students were decked out in orange and maroon. The S-zone, normally displaying a huge blue and white "S", instead displayed "VT" in orange and maroon.

Hurricane Katrina, The Earthquake in Haiti...the response was enormous. Love was everywhere providing hope for those who were hurting.

But why do we wait for an act of hate to show our hearts? It's as if the problems in the world don't exist until they hit us closer to home than we would like. We must always act with love. When fear, spite and hate motivate your actions, you are hurting SOMEONE. And that might start a domino effect of negative actions. The world doesn't need anymore negative actions.
Negate the negativity and act with love.

I believe that our time on this planet is just a stage in our souls journey through it's existence. This is the self-aware phase, and after we move on from that...who knows where we go. But while we are present we must fill our lives with love.

Please, say a prayer for Justin and his family.
Say a prayer for the victims of the Arizona shooting, and those who are still in critical condition.
And PLEASE, fill your life with love. Do not be afraid of it. Do not run away from it. Embrace it, welcome it into your arms like an old friend.

There's no reason to run...it will only bring you joy.

Together, nothing can break us.

Dear family, please don't hate me for using this picture. It's just overflowing with love and joy, I couldn't resist. Dear readers, just a heads up. I'm on nyquil to suppress my wintry sniffles...please excuse me ahead of time for any rambles and rants of the nonsensical sort.

Today, as you can probably tell from tonight's photo, is my Dad's birthday! Happy Birthday Dad!

I consider myself very lucky. I grew up in a family that would have friday night dinners every week complete with cousins. My Great-Grandma was cheering me on when I learned how to ride a bike, which was a joint effort between Grandpa and Dad. My family has always been there for me. It wasn't until I got to college that I realized that a family this close was something that you don't come across too often. Sometimes, people get too caught up in their own agendas and cannot put differences aside. Sometimes, there is simply a misunderstanding that causes a separation of family members...and this sort of distance is the worst kind. It creates discomfort in the family circle, where there should be nothing but love...after all, this is where we are taught to love.

We must never forget where we come from or the people who raised us. And we must never sever those ties. When your parents are gone, all of a sudden you will realize all of the things you WISHED you knew about them. When your siblings live across the country, you're going to miss the fighting (and yes, the occasional punch...even if it always is to the arm on the same. exact. spot.) and you'll miss the comradery. Family often becomes an obligation and a source of frustration for people, rather than a pillar of love and support. No matter how much they piss you off, or how much they embarrass you...they are yours. For better and worse.

In this photo, we were singing happy birthday in 72 different keys. My older brother, who no longer lives at home, was singing through the phone. Dad was being his usual goof, and the dogs were running around like lunatics. That's my family, and they're the only one I've got. I love them for all of their flaws and all of their kindness. I am so grateful to have them in my life, because I know that they shaped me to become the person I am.

A sidenote on birthdays! Birthdays should always = joy. A birthday is a celebration of a persons presence in life. It only comes once a year for you, but expand your mind and look at the bigger picture of the world. Every day is someone's birthday. Every day should be a celebration of life. Be aware of your own presence on this planet, birthday or not. Embrace it, because our time here is so very short. Hold your family close to you, and live each day with joy and love. It doesn't have to be a birthday to have a fresh start...each sunrise brings a new start and a clean slate.

O, true Nyquil, thy drugs are quick! So...I'll end tonight's entry. However, I do want to throw in one final thought. This quote is a magazine clipping that has been hanging on my Grandma's fridge for I-don't-even-know-how-long. I think it sums up tonight's entry pretty well.

“A frail elderly woman gathered a bundle of twigs and showed them to her family. She separated one twig from the bundle and snapped it in half. Then, she tied a piece of twine around the bundle and bound them together asking each member of her family to try to snap the bundle. No one could break them. The woman smiled and explained: We are like this bundle of twigs. Separated, we are weak. But together, nothing can break us.”


Separated, we are weak. But together, nothing can break us.

Happy Birthday Dad! :)

Hey vibes man, hey jazz man...play me your seranade.

Share your joy.

I took this as I was rushing to make my 9:10 train home tonight from work. I always admire the Penn Station Musicians, even if they are the hopefuls performing unfortunate renditions of arias, or worse (better?) ...karaoke versions from "The Best of Diana Ross." It takes a lot of courage to step up and put yourself out there like that.

This man, however, happened to be remarkably talented. As I approached this area of Penn Station (it's right by the entrance to the 1 train) I noticed the crowd before I heard the music...and then the music hit me, and I stopped in my tracks. I hear this gorgeous saxophone, wailing to the tune of a mans sorrows and joys. Everything this man has ever felt was put into this solo. A few minutes later, I came out of my music induced trance, looked around and saw all of the others who had stopped to listen. In that moment, I saw and felt so much love. The listeners were drawn to him and his song...mesmerized by his musical story, which everyone seemed to understand and relate to. In that moment, nobody was running to catch trains. Travelers paused in their journey. Nobody was fighting. Nobody was even talking. Everybody was just....listening. Everybody understood one another.

It made me realize that music is the only language that is truly universal. Perhaps it is through music that we can forget about our separation, and begin to find a common ground on which to unite.

"Seperation is an Illusion"

Hey all,

I've been wanting to start a blog for a long time. I just never felt I had a direct enough message, or a unique way of sharing it. HOWEVER. In my explorations of thought this quiet winter night, it occurred to me that I always knew what my blog would be about. Since I started my first internship in the jungle that is NYC two years ago I have grown to become familiar with the work life of the city. I quickly realized that in order to survive the daily push-and-shove, I would have to look past the miserable gray business suits.

A word about the walking suits. If you ever watch them, and I mean truly watch them, you will notice that they all walk in one of two ways. Dire urgency, or complete separation from the present...a sort of...disdain. These office drones are stalked by the shadow of their lost dreams (who are so kind as to batter the poor office drones on the head as a constant, painful reminder of what they gave up to fulfill the status quo. Or perhaps they simply latch themselves onto the drones feet weighing them down with regret, and the horrible sensation of feeling trapped.)

Anywho, determined to not become a "drone" I decided to look for LOVE in the crowded streets of New York City. To avoid confusion, allow me to define my use of "Love" in this blog. I am not, to my mothers dismay, talking about a mission to find my future Jewish Doctor of a Husband. But rather, to find love as displayed in humanity. Examples of Human Love as demonstrated in acts kindness, compassion, empathy and joy. Maybe someone admiring a baby in a stroller, friends meeting up in Penn Station, strangers meeting and falling head over heels for each other on the subway (true story, and probably the sweetest thing I've ever seen). Even something as simple as holding the elevator for someone. To get the movie quote over with: *Cue Hugh Grant: "Love is actually all around." (There, I've said it! First and last, I promise!) But really, folks. It is. We just have to open our eyes.

Humanity is flawed by separation, and we tend to forget that we are interconnected. And that connection is not just shared between fellow human beings. We are connected: Man connected to Man, connected to Nature, to Creature, and to Earth.

So, I set myself on a mission to find examples of love, as demonstrated by the residents of NYC. Last summer, I thought about carrying a camera around, and photographing what I would find. But I never did it. I left the idea simmering in my mind, waiting for the right moment to flower. And that brings me to tonight. I was reading an article on why American's suck at New Years Resolutions. (it's true. And this isn't even about resolutions to me. But seriously, folks! Where has our ambition gone!!!?? Wake up, you only have one life to live! Lazy just isn't an excuse. Neither is fear. Don't let it become one. Laziness combined with fear can be lethal.) So, a link from the resolution article led me to a list of resolutions. One of which was about photographing daily life. Which stirred an idea that I once had....

SO. The mission of this blog is to demonstrate that amidst the horrors inflicted upon humanity BY humanity, love still exists. I will post a photograph demonstrating love, empathy and kindness for 365 days. And I hope that the images I post add up to show that if we can learn to cease this ridiculous separation of mankind, and act with love every day of our lives...that a more beautiful world is possible.

This isn't about political affiliation. This isn't about religion. This is simply about being a human being.