RIP Michael Jackson. Wanna Be Startin' Something is still one of my favorite songs. The world will continue to enjoy your music forever.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Gypsy Soul
I was born into a middle class midwestern family. My dad was a cop and my mom was a nurse. They both lived all of their lives in the city where they were born. They even went to the same highschool.
I am definitely the blacksheep of my family. I never felt like I belonged where we lived and I wasn't content to live in a fifty mile radius of that midwestern town for the rest of my life. I developed the urge to travel, learn about different people and feel warm sand under my toes. I loved reggae music.
Where did this come from? I wonder if an ancestor way down low in my family tree had a gypsy soul, wanderlust, a taste for the tropics and a feeling of belonging to history and ancient cities.
I just don't understand how my DNA created who I am. Nature or nurture? I say neither. I have no point in my life where my eyes were opened by someone who crossed my path. I just always knew at some level that I didn't belong where I landed. I have had a strong affinity with the underdog and minorities. I am often mistaken for someone I am not - a different race or a different nationality. This makes me wonder if the stork took a wrong turn.
When I travel to Jamaica, Italy, Greece, and Mexico - I always feel most at home. I am in tune with the land and the people. The rhythm and spirit welcome me and quiet my soul. I still feel like a gypsy, but a gypsy who has found a safe haven. There are others places I have traveled, too, but none that ground me like Jamaica, Italy, Greece, and Mexico. Oh, and for those of you who think the only reason to go to Jamaica is to smoke ganja, you are ignorant. The first time I planned a trip to Jamaica, one of my friends actually wondered why I was going there since I didn't smoke weed. No, I don't keep in touch with that one.
God gave me the gift of a gypsy soul. I have a problem staying in one job or one place for too long. I always seem to search for something, without knowing what it is. I like the move, the change, the new surroundings. I also like leaving the past behind. Once I cross a bridge, it is very rarley that I look back or turn around. But, life deals funny blows and sometimes you do need to backtrack for sanity's sake.
I had my fortune told once. I was told that in a past life I was Japanese and of royal descent. (Everyone is of royal descent when they get their fortune told, right? No one ever is told that they shoveled shit for the rich guy or were homeless and without love and purpose.) This Japenese thing struck me as very odd, I just don't see it. When I lived in Asia, Japan was never a place that drew me in or even interested me. I have been through Narita airport, but that is it. So, you can see how much relevance I put on the fortune. I do believe some people have the talent to help you find your destiny or read your past, but I did not pay one of those people that day.
I often think that maybe I will move to New Orleans and tell fortunes in the square at night. I'll bet they make a lot of money during Mardi Gras. And I would be so close to Cafe du Monde.....
Anyway, below is a scene from my travels, one of my favorite pictures in one of my favorite places. This was taken at Uxmal in the Yucatan. I crawled out on a ledge and had a sit. I crawled all over those Mayan pyramids in skirts. So funny to think of it now. If anyone is actually reading this blog, do yourself a favor and click on the pic to enlarge it. It is pretty cool.
I am definitely the blacksheep of my family. I never felt like I belonged where we lived and I wasn't content to live in a fifty mile radius of that midwestern town for the rest of my life. I developed the urge to travel, learn about different people and feel warm sand under my toes. I loved reggae music.
Where did this come from? I wonder if an ancestor way down low in my family tree had a gypsy soul, wanderlust, a taste for the tropics and a feeling of belonging to history and ancient cities.
I just don't understand how my DNA created who I am. Nature or nurture? I say neither. I have no point in my life where my eyes were opened by someone who crossed my path. I just always knew at some level that I didn't belong where I landed. I have had a strong affinity with the underdog and minorities. I am often mistaken for someone I am not - a different race or a different nationality. This makes me wonder if the stork took a wrong turn.
When I travel to Jamaica, Italy, Greece, and Mexico - I always feel most at home. I am in tune with the land and the people. The rhythm and spirit welcome me and quiet my soul. I still feel like a gypsy, but a gypsy who has found a safe haven. There are others places I have traveled, too, but none that ground me like Jamaica, Italy, Greece, and Mexico. Oh, and for those of you who think the only reason to go to Jamaica is to smoke ganja, you are ignorant. The first time I planned a trip to Jamaica, one of my friends actually wondered why I was going there since I didn't smoke weed. No, I don't keep in touch with that one.
God gave me the gift of a gypsy soul. I have a problem staying in one job or one place for too long. I always seem to search for something, without knowing what it is. I like the move, the change, the new surroundings. I also like leaving the past behind. Once I cross a bridge, it is very rarley that I look back or turn around. But, life deals funny blows and sometimes you do need to backtrack for sanity's sake.
I had my fortune told once. I was told that in a past life I was Japanese and of royal descent. (Everyone is of royal descent when they get their fortune told, right? No one ever is told that they shoveled shit for the rich guy or were homeless and without love and purpose.) This Japenese thing struck me as very odd, I just don't see it. When I lived in Asia, Japan was never a place that drew me in or even interested me. I have been through Narita airport, but that is it. So, you can see how much relevance I put on the fortune. I do believe some people have the talent to help you find your destiny or read your past, but I did not pay one of those people that day.
I often think that maybe I will move to New Orleans and tell fortunes in the square at night. I'll bet they make a lot of money during Mardi Gras. And I would be so close to Cafe du Monde.....
Anyway, below is a scene from my travels, one of my favorite pictures in one of my favorite places. This was taken at Uxmal in the Yucatan. I crawled out on a ledge and had a sit. I crawled all over those Mayan pyramids in skirts. So funny to think of it now. If anyone is actually reading this blog, do yourself a favor and click on the pic to enlarge it. It is pretty cool.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Winston
This is Winston, he belongs to Rich, the blogger at fourfour.typepad.com. This video made me laugh so much today, I just had to share it. You will like it, even if you are not a "cat person".
The Art Spirit
Odalisque, 1870, Auguste Renoir
Mourning Portrait of the Duchess of Alba, 1797, Francisco Goya
By the Sea (Fatata te Miti), 1892, Paul Gauguin
Joyousness (Aurearea), 1892, Paul Gauguin
Leila, mid-1800's, Sir Thomas Francis Dicksee
The Dead Toreador, 1864, Edouard Manet
Nude on a Blue Cushion, 1917, Amedeo Modigliani
Dos Mujeres en la Ventana, 1655, Bartolome Esteban Murillo
Odalisque, 1882, Jean Joseph Benjamin Constant
National Gallery on the Mall
The Smithsonian is probably one of the greatest gifts ever given to Americans. All of these fabulous museums free for one and all, regardless of race, creed or inclination. This is what makes an American proud. There is, however, another jewel nestled among the museums on the mall - The National Gallery of Art.
When I first visited Washington D.C. as an eigth grader, I don't remember much besides getting sick on the bus and my classmates making fun of me. When I returned to Washington D.C. several years later, I was surprised by how much I loved a mall that didn't have a food court. The National Gallery of Art is far and away my favorite place in D.C. I can spend hours just looking at my favorite paintings. The painting below is my most favorite painting. It is almost like a mural and when I get lost in it, I think I can smell the seabreeze. And, the brunette woman bears a strong resemblance to the person I see in the mirror, so the painting feels personal, as well. I like to think of her as the best friend to the favorite of the Emir. A Rhoda of her generation - someone I identify with. Anyway, the painting is beautiful with lovely detail on the Persian patterns on the women's clothing. It is literally a work of art.
Favorite of the Emir, 1879, Jean Joseph Benjamin Constant
When I first visited Washington D.C. as an eigth grader, I don't remember much besides getting sick on the bus and my classmates making fun of me. When I returned to Washington D.C. several years later, I was surprised by how much I loved a mall that didn't have a food court. The National Gallery of Art is far and away my favorite place in D.C. I can spend hours just looking at my favorite paintings. The painting below is my most favorite painting. It is almost like a mural and when I get lost in it, I think I can smell the seabreeze. And, the brunette woman bears a strong resemblance to the person I see in the mirror, so the painting feels personal, as well. I like to think of her as the best friend to the favorite of the Emir. A Rhoda of her generation - someone I identify with. Anyway, the painting is beautiful with lovely detail on the Persian patterns on the women's clothing. It is literally a work of art.
Favorite of the Emir, 1879, Jean Joseph Benjamin Constant
So check out the NGA website: www.nga.gov. Two favorite museums on/near the mall are also worthy of a visit: National Museum of the American Indian www.nmai.si.edu and United States Holocaust Memorial Museum www.ushmm.org.
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