Archive | Weather Matters

April Showers

This is the first Tuesday morning I haven’t had to climb into into critic drag in more than five years. My show, Talking Pictures, was cancelled along with most of NY1’s other entertainment programming. The layoff dovetails with the end of my 15-year tenure as a labor journal editor, a job that quietly conferred the bulk of my financial stability. All to say: I am at a serious crossroads. But like clockwork, I rise with the dawn anyway–make coffee and Gracie’s breakfast and putter into my office. For a minute I’m floored. What shall I do with this time? What path shall I forge forward?Then my eye falls on the flowers still blooming on my desk from last weekend’s readings. Freesia and pussy willows, still sitting pretty in my ecosystem like the most gracious of emissaries: pollenated, fragrant, soft. I sigh and take a deep soldiering breath. I can do this, I’m pretty sure. I can do this, though I don’t even know what “it” is yet. This is spring. This is not the time to fall.

Here Comes the Sun

All hail the vernal equinox! This is a glorious day not just because there’ll be more light than darkness from here on in. It’s glorious because everything is perfectly balanced, and, more than most times, we can trust that what feels good is also right since that balance extends to each and every one of us. To reflect this hallowed equinox, I’ve chosen an Alice Neel painting of Andy Warhol superstars Ritta Redd and Jackie Curtis, who had a beautiful balance that was uniquely their own. Take a few moments to assess what is your unique balance—not according to a “should” so much as according to your most specific desires. While you’re at it, take a few more moments to thank the sun for being such a wonderfully constant life bearer. Even in our worst times, we are so lucky she glows upon us.

In the Storm She Shone

The night before Tuesday’s blizzard, I emerged from a critics’ screening into midtown Manhattan. The sky was heavy and violet; the city, already abandoned. The only other people on the street were hurrying along with big bags of laundry and groceries–everything they needed to lay in for the storm. But the film I’d just seen had been much better than I’d anticipated, and I felt the happiness that good work, natural or human-made, has inspired in me since I was a small child; it’s hard to be despondent when beauty in all forms gladdens you this way.

In that burst of cheer I decided to walk rather than surrender to the weirdness of east 30s public transportation. I bundled up more seriously—double-wrapped my scarf, donned the velvet gloves my mother had sent for Christmas, and took off, knowing it might the last time in a while I’d walk so easily on NYC sidewalks. The air was so cold I could hear little ice crystals forming on my lungs when I breathed; this felt cleansing rather than unsettling. I walked faster, not to hasten my return home so much as to visit with all of the world at once. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy