Saturday, November 12, 2016

Fear- Rage- Grief/Depression- Action - and Beyond-

Fear- Rage- Grief/Depression- Action - and Beyond-

(Note: this is imperfect, it is the best I got today)
I have been vacillating between fear, rage, grief/depression, and a meditative state of being that is beyond hate blame and judgement and closer to empathy since the election. Every one of those places is valid.

Fear: I live  in a diverse liberal place. I do not live in fear. After the election results, I was in a diverse public space and a white man started eyeing all of the lovely diverse people around me, including me, and began singing in a threatening manner,"All we are saying, is give trump a chance." to the tune of Give Peace A Chance. Then he left. I felt the fear and then the rage. I wanted to violently attack him, rip him limb from limb. How dare anyone come into my safe space, my life and threaten me. My seething rage for all things trump was unleashed. It was so subtle but it was crystal clear. Much worse is happening.

Most of you reading already know this but I want to clarify it for anyone who doesn't. Hate has been legitimitized by the election of a man who used attacking and blaming minorities to get elected. A group of people who are predominantly white, predominantly male and predominantly uneducated are feeling empowered by this election results to vent their frustrations on innocent groups of people identified by trump. They are following his lead. Hate crimes are on the rise in the few days since the election. I fear for myself and my kids, my husband, my family, and for all women, people of color, people of targeted religions and everyone in the LBGTQ community. This is not hype, it is happening and people are scared.  I am so sorry if you are being targeted or feel fear. 

This blog is about the violence from trump supporters, but I will add here that his policies are the source of their feeling empowered. His proposed policies are terrifying and again I am sorry if you are afraid or targeted.

Right here I want to note that only 27% of America voted for trump.

I also want to say that my I love men, I love white people and I have people in my life whom I love who are uneducated. I write this with love.

I have been afraid before. Many times. Two very personal and rather recent incidents include that a friend was murdered by a terrorists machine gun fire (breathe). And that a court of law decided whether I could keep my child or never see my child again (breathe. I cannot get into details on that but it was not because of anything me or my family did). Both times I chose to not give in to the fear. With terrorists I chose to be brave and not live in fear. Instead I left the house and lived in gratitude. With being in court for a year and a half not knowing if my family would be torn apart, I decided to choose love, action, and a spiritual path. I would love my kid everyday, and stay out of terror by meditating, and I would fight my hardest within that system. And there you have it. That is what I will do in the face of this election.

I will pause here to say that women, I am feeling you. The number of sexual assaults against me as a child and a teen and a young women and an adult are too numerous to go into. Another time. (one of many I am a survivor. It is so very triggering to have the president of our country, an authority figure, be an accused sexual predator who promotes sexual assault and dismisses the victims. And now by having been elected, is unintentionally giving those looking for an excuse to go out and assault. It is almost incomprehensible and absolutely unacceptable.

Thus the terror, of being victimized again (!?!?!), the feelings of grief, like someone I love has died. And the rage, which I will funnel into action.

I will fight for all targeted communities to the best of my ability and I invite you to do the same. I will stand for equality and fight against hate and harm. i have never been targeted for my spiritual beliefs, but I been victimized for my sexual preference, and my race. I do not need to have been the victim of a specific violence to still fight agains it. Which brings me to empathy...

Empathy? Empathy for haters and hurters? Motherfucker!  You are asking me to do hard work right now. Yep, I am asking that of myself. Not today, I am not feeling it yet, but ultimately. I am going there. A large part of the people who voted for trump have felt afraid, have felt the way we do now, for the last 8 years. They have felt powerless thinking that values or beliefs they hold dear was being taken away (I am working hard to stay out of judgment of their vales as I type that) or they have felt, or actually have been forgotten by the powers that be. Stephen Colbert shared a statistic from PEW Research Center saying "More than half of Democrats (55%) say the Republican Party makes them 'afraid' while 49% of Republicans say the same about the Democratic Party. 

Everyone is having big feeling and feelings are messy at best and really problematic at worst, especially for people without tools. Alas, folks, that's why I work like a dog to process my feelings and keep my side of the street clean. Education is vital, so is art and support.

Deepak Chopra has advocated for meditating into the place of "being" beyond judgement and blame.  That's hard but I am trying. That was how I got through my court experience, that is the only way I got through. The truth is that hating, blaming and judging don't fix anything for me and they don't help us feel better other than for a temporary moment. The only thing that helps is empowerment. Being brave in the face of fear, standing strong with the persecuted and fighting for my family and others is my only solulution for me. I am writing this for me. If it helps you, please share it with others and let me know. 

Monday, November 7, 2016

Election anxiety remedy # 5: what is great

What is great in this world: mountains, James brown, cats, dogs, kittens, puppies, the film Cabaret, Lina Wertmuller, Dave Chapelle, friends, nitrate-free bacon, dairy free ice cream with dairy free whipped cream, love.

I am tired. It has been a long week, month, year. God bless us all. Do something kind, do something brave. Do something that makes you feel strong. Do something that makes you feel good. Love yourself and others. Joy to the world. I'm done. Xxxh

Election anti anxiety remedy #4: Gimme Danger

Yep, I will be able to watch it free in a few weeks or so on a TV, but we trekked to the theater and paid to see Jim Jamosch's documentary on the Stooges. I wanted to hear it loud and see it big. The film is fine, but the story and the subject are Brilliant. Shine shine shine Iggy, Scott, Ron, Dave and James. So fun to hear it told and see as much of the footage as exists. Yes, I already know the story but it was still a treat. Do fun things. Treat yourself well. Manifest your visiON! Follow your dreams, allow your genius. Be free. Help others to be free. Love on. Xxxh

Saturday, November 5, 2016

Election anxiety Remedy # 3: Circa 1972

I am writing joyous odes to life this pre election week as an anti anxiety election remedy. You are welcome to join me. I believe that focusing on the positive helps us manifest more of the same positivity and then some. Here is a new poem.

At the party, circa 1972 by Holly Ramos (2016)

Daddy, the way your creased bell bottomed slacks stick off your leg at an angle when you sit looks like an animal's beak. I can see your brown leather ankle boot and your black sock rise above it. If you sit low enough, like on the steps of the sunk-in living, or on a footrest or the floor, I can even see you thin shin and its Puerto Rican brown skin.

Friday, November 4, 2016

What's great today

those of you who know me may know about how I used to cry everyday. I did that for decades. There was a lot to mourn, feel, grieve and release. I washed away most of  what I needed to. I hardly cry at all these days. It's been a rather dry decade or so. But I cried today. I literally cried out of beauty and joy today because I saw a grandmother asleep upright in a chair at the Y holding her new born sleeping grandchild against her body. It was mind blowingly touching for so very many reasons. I could not stop staring and, teary-eyed, I touched a stranger who was also staring and we shared a moment together basking in the emanating light. Life is magnificent.

The other amazing things that happened were that I went to THE infamous Marc Jacob sample sale. I love Marc. The sale, however, was ga-badge (said with a New England accent). I don't like to used such strong language but it was. It was day 2. Maybe if you go on day one it is better. This part might not sound amazing, but it was. It was amazing to find out I was not missing out on anything. Silly, I know.

The best amazing part was that I went to my daughter's teacher conference and I was told "I don't know what you are doing at home with your child but it is like an angel dropped into the class room. She is not only focused on her work, but she helps other kids. She answers questions so earnestly. And she is above the standards in every area." That is just so very sweet to hear. I do not care if she is struggling with every subject. What I loved was that she tries, she helps, and my favorite part, she is earnest. She is so very sweet. I am so very lucky.

A few other details: getting to eat at this place we were trying to get to before it closed and never making it until today. Eating a delicious meal with my kiddos and having a laugh fest in bed as I was keeping them up extra late to get them ready for the clock change.

I am living the dream. I suspect we all can find part of the dream to live. Cultivate the attitude of gratitude, brothers and works.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

The end of the best summer

I adore summer. Growing up with many difficulties, summer was the one consistent joy. Pools and oceans were a family value, my parents made swimming a priority. Water was one of the few places where there was peace and play and freedom and fun.

Getting to the water has become a priority for me as well. as a new mom I imagined that taking my kids to the beach or pool would be the greatest thing but it wasn't. I had to hold my 6 month old the whole time and it was uncomfortable, then I had to watch her the whole time and when she got slightly independent I had to hold my son. I didn't reason out the plan I just felt it emotionally, summer water joy.  But it wasn't, and that was such a disappointing drag....

Until now. this year was the best summer of my adult life, maybe even my whole life. I went to the pool every day. My daughter can swim good enough and my son, only 2, is at a fun stage and he can wear floaties and jump around without physical discomfort to me. And I get to frolic about for a bit here and there and that is terrific. It has been and continues to be great, joyous, and amazing. Being in the water is the easiest place for me to play with my kids and connect with them. So perfect.

Then that day came when I noticed that the slant of the sun was different and I felt a chill in the air that signified the end of summer, the same chill I would feel as a kid at Rockaway at the end of August, or on the holiday weekend. The sea was warm, but the sun was different and the air reflected it. Urg. It hurt me on the cellular level to say goodbye to this glorious summer.  Still thrilled to have experienced it in all its perfection. Next year will be even better!

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Don't quit before the miracle

Hi friends, I miss you. I am checking in out of the blue with this short but sweet one...

Several days ago I spotted a rolypoly bug on the bathroom floor on its back wiggling like crazy and unable to get up. I was too tired to deal with it. School is back in session and it is unexplainable how hectic things get when there is a dramatic schedule change and sleep is disturbed with the early call time. Hectic for me and for the kiddos. Way to impossible to describe. Some of you know exactly what I am talking about, the rest must trust. Completely  and utterly unable to help that bug.

Three whole days later I saw it again, in a different part of the room, still on its back struggling like mad, wiggling all those feet, completely helpless, stuck. I happened to have an once of strength and I picked up the poor bastard and threw it out into the yard. Ping! I heard that satisfying sound that meant the bug was not stuck to me but now had hit a leaf and was back in its element.

Alas, the metaphor, I have been that bug, hopeless and fucked. Unable. And out of the blue something changes. Don't quit before the miracle. I write to remind my dear self. See you around. XH

Oh hell yeah, Otis!

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Baggage: letting go of hatred brings up vulnerability and so much more

Urg, you know the Ike and Tina version of Proud Mary, “We never ever do anything nice and easy…” welcome to my world. But you read me, so you already know that.

I do not want to post this but I was feeling pretty alone with it so posting helps.  And since you made it past the title, you must need to read this on some level, so here goes.

So I am cutting loose this big heavy fucking suitcase that I have carried around on my back for decades. Put it down, dear girl, put it down. Inside of the ancient bag I found some metaphor for a very sad childhood with trauma. You get the picture. I have worked much of it out, but apparently not all. Hmmmm.

The result of carrying all that weight has been the source of much hatred. That’s how it plays out for me, that was the best I could do with so much pain. I fucking hate. I don’t hate minorities or random folk. My target is just a select few, anyone that has hurt me or hurt someone very very close to me, anyone who gets near my wound. They get it all, all the hate in the world.

Of course they don’t deserve it all. They don’t deserve any of it. Most targets of hate do not deserve the wrath sent their way. Hate is not logical or productive. It does no good, serves no one. But there you have it. That is how I coped. My process leads me to have some empathy for the haters out there that I cannot stand, the haters of women and blacks and the lgbt community and “others”. I get how illogical it is, how deep it runs, how hard it is to reason away, how comforting it feels. But hate hurts everyone, both the hater and the hated. It is our job and responsibility to do better.

I am excited to let it go. It will be a process. It will take time. Still
I am so very uncomfortable with the letting go of what has been my armor. I am not sure what will be there underneath. Uneasy vulnerabity, yes, but what else? There are tons of tears and terror, but that stuff will pass. It is all ok, beautiful in fact. I am contributing to the peace consciousness of the world. Being the change I want to see. Life is mindblowing. Viva la revolutione of the internal kind. All transformation is possible. You know I love you.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

the fall of Saigon

This weekend is the 40th anniversary of the fall of Saigon, or the liberation, depending on context. There is so much sadness and devastation leading up to that moment, I cannot even begin to touch on it. I will just say that the evacuations had begun a month or so prior. President Ford appproved a plan to remove most Americans, leaving only 1250, enough to be evacuated in one day. He spent the rest of the time, until the city was captured, evacuating Vietnamese refugees. American planned to help refugees of war till the last possible minutes, that is amazing. 

I find the history so compelling, because it was so very recent. Only 40 years ago. 

And on another note, it happened DAYS after the first Ramones record came out.

I am having a hard time reconciling this time line. 

Ah, life. Turn, turn, turn.

"Compassion is the understanding of the lack of understanding"

“Compassion is the understanding of the lack of understanding. It takes a tremendous amount of clarity, strength and spiritual maturity to practice genuine compassion.
Love offered from a place of true compassion is not personal; it is transpersonal, non-dual quality that emanates from the depths of one’s being. The spiritually-awakened heart practices unconditional compassion which expresses exactly as it needs to – tough love at times, soothing, comforting love at others. But love is always the view, the motive, the practice.” From the agape website

I read this a week or so ago and then began my week of really big feelings, the kind that rattle every nerve ending till it is raw and fiery, where you whole body is uncomfortable and all you want is a way out because the way though seems unbearable. I wanted to do any thing to relieve me of the ouchy itchy buzzy adrenaline-y, sensations of fear, anger, pain and trauma. Gross. 

I went to 7 eleven, a place I rarely enter, and craved the neon pink doughnuts, the greasy fried crispy sandwiches, the chips, the sugar, the candy, the soda, the shitty chocolate, more chips, and the gambling, anything to fix me, to make me feel better (ha!), to take away my pain. Somehow I walked out with just a one dollar lotto ticket. 

Next I tried obsessive thinking, spinning out on figuring a way out of having to feel anything by fixing everything. Since that is impossible, It did not work it just feel more adrenaline-y and brutal.

Miraculously, after getting some help to ground myself I somehow moved through all of those feelings without stuffing or fixing and got peace in the other side. I’d been wrestling with something for a while and all of a sudden I had clarity and guidance. I was laid up in the fetal position for a bit, recovering from all the popping off of electrical impulses in my body, but I got through. You can too. Why is it so hard to just feel things sometimes?

Anyway, I was left with the answer that the high road is always the way to go, that the low road promises immediate gratification, but often fail to deliver and even if it does give immediate satisfaction, it is never gives long term peace and happiness. And isn’t peace and happiness what we are seeking in the end? I write this to remind myself.

Sometimes it is really hard to get to love, but it is always worth the struggle. 

Thursday, April 28, 2016

40 perfect and yes rare...

The Ramones first record just had its 40th anniversary. Henry Rollins was talking about it today on the radio. It was great to hear those songs. It reminded me why I wanted/want to be in a band. It reminded me why music is amazing. It reminded me of that unnamable feeling/energy of the first time you hear a mind blowing song.

The best part of the article was when Henry mentioned that the record only went gold two years ago, which means that it only sold 500,000 copies as of recently. He spoke about how shocking that was, how he imagined that everyone had that record. I guess I thought that too, but it is so refreshing to hear that not everyone has it, that it really is a privileged bunch who knew about it. Of course I wished the band all the success and exposure and financial gain they deserved, that is besides the point. The point is that not everyone knows about this gem. It really was the sublime magnificent underground, like wearing yellow fishnet stockings with an MC jacket on a freezing night so cold it hurts your nose to breathe and all you care about is the sound and   you feel like you would die for it and you just need to get there and see them and hear them....Despite all the good or bad bands that think they are/were punk and think that punk “broke” the mainstream, some good part never did. Little victory for us with good taste.

btw, LA Peeps, I am playing with my band OSO My Brain, tonight, friday april 29th at Taix 1911 Sunset blvd, in echo park at 10pm. See you there...

Sunday, April 17, 2016

lord i miss you

life is so good. i am so busy. i miss writing everyday and being with you, but i love doing other things and not putting that  pressure on myself right now. i can do it if want to but am taking a break. yum....

anyway, i just saw this film and i t was so awesome and i thought i would tell you about it. it was universal but on a smaller budget than those typical UNIVERSAL themed films. it is just my nature, i am not fan of "too glossy, i get it, the hard work the perfection, the polish, the goal, the box office competition, the pay for the artists, etc, but something always gets lost in the translation for me when you get to the arena level. as for the music metaphor, i hope to never go to an area show again in my life, i only want the small club experience. and yes i mostly avoid that kind of film because it rarely satisfies me.

that being said, i saw this medium sized film, (small to some) and it was so elegantly acted and told, and the metaphor was so big and strong and it was just everything i want in a film, it showed the struggle, the heartbreak, the reality of life, the beauty of family, of relationship, friendship, love. it touched the god place for me.

it reminded me of everything i already knew but always forget.
the struggle is normal. 
we are all connected. 
everything is going to be ok. 
love is stronger than all the stuff. 
love always wins. 
you are given everything you need.
i could go on and on.

oh, the film was called Midnight Special. you may not see it the way i did. expectation often kills it of me.

see you around, kiddos.
looking good, keef...

Monday, April 11, 2016

the greatest water fountain

We used to go to this man made lake in Fair Lawn, New Jersey when I was a kid. Swim, barbeque, play, it was a magical place. I have the fondest memories.  My parents called it Fehlaun, with their heavy new York accents so it was not until I was a grown up that I knew what the place was really called. Anyway, there was a water fountain there that I can still remember today. the fountain and the metal bowl lay on a wooden structure that had been painted white, but was rough and sun baked, faded and chipped. The whole thing smelled like wood that was hot and in the sun all day, like a boardwalk, and the water tasted like the most delicious water in the whole world. still does, in my memory.

No song tonight. in a rush. peace out. xh

Sunday, April 10, 2016

standing myself up

at one time I tried on line dating. I was single and dating was a drag and online dating was a worse drag. It probably takes time to get it right but I did not give it much time.
I met one guy on there and he was ok and we made a date and I showed up and he was not there and  waited a bit but he never came. I was relieved. Then I went home and realized that I had never sent him the note where I confirmed the date and set up the time and place. The draft was written but never sent. Opps. I stood myself up.

Last week I wrote a blog and published it and about 8 people read it. wow I thought, did everyone just forget about me that fast? Just because I have not published every day am I no longer relevant? I remember Jon Stewart saying “who remembers Oprah?” after she went off network tv and was only on her channel and not as accessible. He said it in a cautionary way when the Daily Show did not air, or threatened not to air, for one day due to some glitch, or something like that. I was about to buy into the workaholics dream about having to do it more and more and more….
Then I checked to see if I ever posted the blog and lo and behold, I had once again stood myself up.

Things are not always what you think. Sometimes you get proof, sometimes you have to trust..,

this is the most un me song i have ever posted. but it works

Friday, April 8, 2016

be wrong strong

In first grade I did great in school and loved the attention and the compliments and the stickers. Then I made my first mistake. I remember it still something about circle the cherries or the apples and I did it wrong and I got my first red X. I went home so upset and said that I needed glasses and my family thought that was so funny, but I cried because my little bit of validation was taken away and I wanted it back.

I am crazy over the new film Miles Ahead, directed by Don Cheadle, and my favorite line is when Miles is recording and he says to his band “Be wrong strong.”  When I was in my first band I was all attitude, not much technique, I still am like that in many ways. I came to love mistakes because that is what happens when you are taking chances, being vulnerable, living in the moment. Something about being and neat and perfect is so uptight, leaves no room for the magic. Go there.

Be wrong strong my friends, forever. xxH

Thursday, April 7, 2016

high school teacher Part II cliffhanger revealed...

part II high school
Sorry it took me a while to get to this cliff hanger continued from

…He made good points, but also came from a place of white male privilege. I understood both sides. Most, if not all of the kids on the school did not have to worry about paying for college. My family never finished paying for my high school. They did not have the money, so they ditched the last tuition. I never got my hs diploma because of debt. I had already gotten a big scholarship, because I was bright, from my father's union. It was not enough to go to NYU. I already knew I was smart. However, NYU was going to give me another scholarship (because I was bright AND my school had gotten me to be the news paper editor to enhance my profile) and being Latina was probably going to help. I had never been given much of anything, so I loved affirmative action.

For the paper, I wrote....that affirmative action was “bad” and gave the reasons why, which all made sense, even though I really thought affirmative action was good because it served me in a prefect and untarnished way. Anyway, it was a complex issue.  I just finished watching the AMAZING  People vs OJ series and the Chris Darden character speaks about how he got into his prestigious school without help, but he felt, painfully,  like everyone was looking at him like he only got in because of affirmative action.

None the less, I finally got an A on a paper for Mr. Pugelli. One thing I learned in his class was how to play the game, which may not have been unintended on his part. In any case, I deeply respect the guy and I was absolutely thrilled to find out he was head of a school, still teaching and still amazing. I watched a video of him giving a presentation to his his school students and I an in awe at what he is teaching high school kids. I am in awe of his mind. I watched the whole video to learn and remember and learn again. He talks about so many things I couldn’t grasp at the time but came to learn, believe ,and value on my own over the years. These days, we have many shared values. I would love to see him give a Ted Talk. Thanks Mr. Pugelli. You can see him here speaking about "selling your self":

this on the other hand was where i was at in high school, listening to crass, god bless..

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

politics and joy

This is real. While I talk about the presidential race alot, I do not talk about it in front of my daughter, not for any specific reason, but I am just not in adult company having those conversations when she is around. EVERYTHING she knows she hears from other kids in kindergarten and apparently they talk politics every day. When we are driving I listen to npr so she also hears all the news reports, and the names Clinton and Trump jump out for her and prompt her to fill me in on her political views.  She is anti Trump because he is not nice and "excludes," (which is a terrible thing to do on the playground). She never mentions Bernie. She wants Hillary to win because she is a girl.

So tonight over dinner out of the blue she said this to me with great excitement:
"Did you know that Jim Cleatlin is the husband of Harry Cleatlin (that is how she pronounced Hillary's name)!!!?

After taking a moment to figure out what the hell she was talking about I said, "I did know that."

And she said without missing a beat "What's a husband?"It is kust me and the kids at dinner, no one else is there.

What joy I get to sit alone and hold.

Monday, April 4, 2016

too good not to share

this was said to me in all seriousness, with no posing, no trying, just pure realness, by one of my peeps today:
"The bitch is seventy motherfucking seven and she is getting more dick than me."
I love my life and the amazing colorful beautiful real people surrounding me.

Saturday, April 2, 2016

high school teacher....

So yesterday I wrote in the vague place, when i need to keep something private and I am less specific. It is never as interesting or relatable. The details are where we connect.

I had this teacher in high school, Mr. Pugelli. He was really cool, incredibly intelligent and a great teacher . He taught a class called the American Dream. We read Ken Keasy and The Hell's Angels. Great books with depth that we could really learn a lot about life from. As a teacher he wanted his high school students to have real tools in the world and he was so smart about how he taught them. We read a book, I forget if it was How to Influence People, or How to n Negotiate Anything, anyway it was classic that went over my head. I was not starting at the starting line, I was 59 miles behind the line and not ready for such sophisticated stuff, but it got in my head and I never forgot the examples he brought up and the points he made.

Even though i was a straight A student, I always got low grades on my papers for him. He was all practicality, business and sense with a little cool thrown in and I was a radical, an idealist, nieve and an artist. He wasn't having my bs.  One paper was if we had 5 minutes alone with the president what would we ask him. Reagan, what would I say to him? I wrote that I would say nothing, that he would not listen and that basically he was an asshole. I got a  C. he wrote back that no is the end, yes is the beginning. conversations open the door, something like that. We were both right. He was righter. He believed that there was always something  you could say. I believe that too, today. For my last paper with him, it was why is affirmative action good  or bad. He taught us why he did not believe in affirmative action - because you got in not on your own merits and you would still feel "less than" (Please  forgive me for any inexactness, I am  paraphrasing  30 years later). 

He made good points, but also came from white male privilege. I understood both sides. Most, if not all of the kids on the school did not have to worry about paying for college. My family never finished paying for my high school. they did not have the money, so the ditched the last tuition. I never got my hs diploma because of debt. i had already gotten a big scholarship because i was bright, from my father's union. It was not enough to go to NYU. I already knew I was smart. However, NYU was going to give me another scholarship because I was bright and my school had gotten me to be the news paper editor to enhance my profile, and being Latina was probably going to help. I had never gotten much of anything, so I loved affirmative action.

For the paper, i wrote....

Cliff hanger, come back tomorrow....

Friday, April 1, 2016

past present

Today I saw an old photo of someone very close to me who I knew from childhood who is no longer with us. It blew my mind as I studied his expression and hair and arms and eyes, searching for clues, trying to see who he was, trying to understand everything that happened. Alot happened and it is still a mystery . I got no answers, only more questions. 

Then I saw a video of another man I knew when I was still living at home, not a mentor, but that is almost the right word. It was just as mind blowing to see him in 3D, doing his thing, with my adult eyes. 

I have lived a million lives in this short life of mine and it is just fascinating to re-experience humans. The same way that going back to your grammar school as an adult and seeing how tiny it is in comparison to how it used to look to you while you were there, seeing these men with completely different eyes is like a measurement of how far I have traveled as a person on this earth.

One experience was kind of great and affirming of my good instincts despite my limitations, and the other was dreadfully depressing. 

Alas, life.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Who loves you baby? Parts I & II

Part I
so I have been laying low after posting everyday for thae last 15 months. I like the momentum of writing and posting everyday, but I am also interested in other projects like my band and other things I have brewing. I have been thinking about lightening up on the blog for  while, but it is a hard decision and I continued to post each day.  There is something great about everyday. It keeps me in the flow in this crazy world. But alas…

I stopped. I skipped a few days and I do not have a plan other than that I still want to blog and it may not be everyday. Ot sure what it will look like, but I do know that I want to get other things done. Anyway…

I was thinking about how out of my mind I was in high school. I was so submerged in the underground and not participating in pop culture in any way. I had found my peeps out in the world, but I still went to a private high school that I had gotten into on a scholarship after being kicked out of catholic school and having no where to go.

I have written about this in some ways before. I really appreciate that my parents wanted the best possible life for me despite their limitations and their limited dreams for me. They really wanted me to have an education and they knew that the nyc public schools of the 1970’s and early 80’s was not a good fit for me.

They, my mother in particular, went out of her way to find a place for me and hustled some kind of deal since there was no way we could afford private school, right off Central Park West no less. And my father went along with it and paid whatever tuition they were asking for. As out of my mind as I was, I happened to have great grades, as school was a place for me to relax and learning was a safe comfortable place for my brain. So we all worked together to get me into my school and then the school in turn, worked really hard to use its resources to get me a college scholarship. Everyone knew I was at risk and that I had potential and they all conspired to help and I did get a college scholarship. It is all pretty interesting to look back at…..

I will continue tomorrow, but I wanted to mention that I was not friends with many kids at the school. Most of them were pretty privileged and I could not relate other than with negative feelings. However, I am “friends” with a bunch of them now on facebook and they are so cool and lovely and warm. And I just wanted to say that.


Sunday, March 27, 2016

more easter

Going to palm springs for Easter has become a tradition. we have been doing it for 4 or more years now. we used to go to this great spot that is now closed. There was this family that used to do a big family reunion get together thing at the same spot every year and we would see them there each year. they were not my peeps but they were inclusive and cool enough and I missed them this year and wondered how they were doing and (magically) thought we might actually run into them at our new joint, but alas, we did not.
This year we made it out to Joshua Tree. I had not been there in around a decade, and then a decade before that, so it was time. The place is amazing and dessert bloom was happening and there were wild flowers everywhere so we went at the prefect time. I always feel like I am on the moon when I get into that landscape, and the night sky only enhances the effect. did i mention it was 90 degrees and we played in the pool all day?
I am loving our spring tradition, bursting with nature, and feel blessed to have such a good life.


good friday

Good Friday, the day Jesus died. I grew up going to catholic school and learning the whole story. I like myths and alagories and history. I like stories of transformation. The idea of dying and coming back is a great symbol of some of the struggles we go through in life, of letting go of something, an idea about ourselves, a feeling (like hate), a relationship that doesn't serve us, or a story we are clinging to. When we let go of the limiting belief or problem, or whatever, when we let it die, there is pain, but then we move through it into something better. 

The one version of a popular prayer says "it is in giving that we recieve, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, It is in the dying of self that we are born to everlasting life." Dying of self strikes me as letting go of ego, opening to the higher eternal self. That is the way I see it.

I appreciate holidays, tradition, honoring some universal type thread, even if it is imperfect. Religion is problematic as hell, but there are a few kernels of wisdom to be gleaned. Let it go. Xh

Thursday, March 24, 2016

terrorists and tampons

In 1981 I went to see The Decline of Western Civilization at the Bleecker Street Cinema in New York (RIP). The doc about the Los Angeles punk scene features young X, Black Flag, and the Germs. (L.A police Chief Daryl Gates tried to prevent it from being shown in LA). I watched the film with subversive glee as I sat behind a great looking guy in a leather jacket that said Reagan Youth on the back.  Couldn't wait to find out who he was. I identified with the movie and the audience and the music. I knew that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, that I had found my people.
The guy turned out to be Dave Insurgent, the charismatic frontman for the amazing hardcore band Reagan Youth. I would spend the next several years growing up on the streets with him and the small group of people that started the new york hardcore scene. The name Reagan Youth, those two words, was brilliant because it really defined us, the messed up, pissed-off, disenfranchised kids who grew up during the 8 years of Reagan.
Man did we kids all despise Ronnie. I won’t get into it what it was like growing up under nuclear war threats, but I will say I was directly affected by his cuts to education. I watched the financial aid that paid for my education shrink each year. I squeezed through the system with the help of loans and scholarships. The era of low income people having access to private schools pretty much ended with Ronald. The man’s legacy gets worse…
Flash ahead to post September 11th America. There is an airport in Washington DC called Ronald Reagan, and it is really close to the center of the city. You can see all of the famous monuments out the window as you are landing. After 9/11 there was a rule on every airplane headed into Reagan that everyone must remain seated for a half hour prior to landing. You were not allowed to get up from your seat for any reason, not even just to rise and stretch. If anyone got up, the plane would turn around, would not land. The rule was enforced, repeatedly. If someone would mess up, stand up, the whole plane, filled with pissed off passengers, would be directed to a different location.
I knew about the rule and made sure to use the bathroom when they made the announcement that we had 10 minutes left before we needed to get back into our seats. There was a line, so I waited, and after entering the room I found out I had gotten my period. The clock was ticking as I went back to my purse and got a tampon and went back to the bathroom. 
I could hear the announcement asking people to return to their seats as I tried to open the tampon, which, incase you are not familiar with the product, is shrink wrapped in a skin tight plastic that needs to be peeled off before using. The plastic is similar to the shrink wrap on a cd, which is a real bitch to open. There is supposed to be a little tab to make it easy but many times, as in this particular case, the tab is undetectable and the task extremely difficult.  I was sweating. I needed to get the wrap off and it was not happening. My fingers searched in every direction to find the tab to open the wrap and nothing was budging. The plane was going to be sent back and it was my fault. Motherfucker. And then, just as they were making the final announcement to return to your seats, the wrap sprang off.
I was able to finish up and slip into my seat in the nick of time and not have the whole plane angry at me and not waste our day in the wrong city, under suspicion of being a terrorist and not have to explain to angry people interrogating me that I just couldn’t open my tampon, that’s all. Yikes. Not sure if they are still enforcing that rule because now if I am en route to DC I just fly into Dulles International. 

miss you, beautiful Dave

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

who cares

nothing much to say. so much is going on in the world, i am taking a break from thinking. i will leave you with this. Who cares. xH

There are so many cultural trends today that the distinction between cool and uncool doesn’t matter anymore, says Brian Eno. We’re all hipsters now.

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Remember Nowheresville? Anyone? Or did I jut dream it.

doing taxes, not writing reposting:

Remember Nowheresville? Anyone? Or did I jut dream it.

It was in the basement of CLUB USA, or whatever that place in Times Square was called. Around 1994 maybe. USA had peeps show booths and a big sign that said SEX or X RATED on the stage, and a one story spiral slide that you went down in a burlap bag, in lieu of the stairs. The slide was great if you were with your friends, all hopped up, and you went down together, on top of each other, ten times in a row while laughing hysterically. But aside from that one amusement and some good looking smut-type design elements, the place was a real bridge and tunnel big soulless club. You know the type.  There was no real reason to ever go there except that someone running the place had the sense to bring in cool people to do cool things, thus Chi Chi and Johnny, the geniuses behind Jackie 60, had a room in the basement where beautiful performers did readings and performance. You needed to know the secret code word to get in so none of the common folk could get in and all of the people from Jackie 60 would hang out there instead of on 14th street one night a week. Of course that made the trek uptown all worthwhile. I could go crazy sliding and sliding and then duck into this secret room, perfectly named Nowheresville, for refuge and art. I could see Johanna Constentine or Hattie or Clark Render do something brilliant and I could bask in the joy of the secret rooms of New York City, one of my favorite things in the world.

Monday, March 21, 2016

two days later...

My boy just turned two. It is a special day, but I did not meet him until he was two days old, so when it is his birthday, I cannot say how it was the greatest day in the world for me, in terms of my being there and having the experience with him. It is a great day because he was born and came into this world. What a miracle of love! 

Two days later however, the day I met his beautiful soul and became his mother, is the greatest day for me, as in I will never forget how I felt and always cherish it with all my heart. More than i can write right now, here is the fuller story. What a miracle of love and joy. He was little and scared and precious and beautiful and perfect. I met him around 1pm and had him home with me around 1am, which is crazy. He cried that night when o put him in the bassinet so i pulled him on my chest and he slept there every night until he was too big to anymore. He still climbs on top of me sometimes, but rolls away after some time. 

Life is such a trip. Please do not ignore the amazing moments that are happening to you all the time, many times a day. it is all so good, even with the struggle and the pain that is a normal part of it all. It is all so good. How lucky are we.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

my best Johnny Thunder's story

So here is my best Thunder's story…… (reprinted)
It all happened on a freezing Christmas night. I was 14.  My sister and her boyfriend Kenny had agreed to take me to see Johnny Thunders at the Peppermint Lounge on 45th street, where my grandmother had danced years ago. We left the family dinner at 9 and drove downtown in the La Mans. I wore fishnet stockings, a black mini skirt, black pointy pumps and my leather motorcycle jacket, lots of eyeliner, very much the London style. Inside I was dancing to Gary Glitter’s Rock and Roll Part I. Kenny went and got us beers. I sat down on a wooden platform near the stage to drink and save a spot to see the show.  And then I saw him, X (can’t say his name, as it is too good a name to change and I do try to protect the guilty in these stories)!!!!! It was like a dream come true. The cute guy that I liked was out at a club with me!
I knew X because he worked at crazy Eddie’s on 8th street and Sixth Avenue where, coincidentally, I had bought the Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers record, LAMF. X came up to me and started talking about the record. He told me his name and I told him mine. He had cool spiky black hair worn just like Sid Vicious and pale blue eyes and milky white skin. He was almost transparent, luminous and beautiful. X had a slight eastern European accent mixed in with his Brooklyn accent, and it was so hot. I had never met anyone who looked like him or talked like him. I couldn’t believe he had approached me. I went home with a huge crush and couldn’t wait to get some money so I could go back and buy another record and see him again. And there he was at the Thunder’s show. it was mindblowing, like something right out of a movie, too perfect.
X came over and sat with me and that cemented the deal. We were an item, in my mind, for the moment at least. We were talking for a while and soon we were kissing, which happened effortlessly in a dark corner of a dark club with a beer, and had been so impossible to achieve in the sunlight on the sidewalk outside and electronics store, even if it was in the village. X tasted like cigarettes and alcohol. It got later and later and Johnny hadn’t taken the stage yet. X moved his hand higher and higher up my leg.
X had come to the club with a friend, who sat next to us the whole time. My sister and Kenny were also on the platform with us. It started to sound like the band might be coming on soon so we took a break from kissing so that X could get us beers. That’s when his friend, whose name I didn’t know, moved in on me. “Lets go back stage” he said and he grabbed my hand and we went through the door that led to the dressing rooms. I had never been backstage before. It was very exciting to see all these mysterious adults getting ready for a gig. We went past a bathroom where I could see two pairs of feet facing each other in the same stall. It was two men because the feet were big, one guy wore high top sneakers, the other had on tight black leather pants. We snuck around, holding hands, and peeking in rooms. It was hard to process everything I was seeing because it was so new and amazing and my adrenaline was soaring. Who are there cool looking people? I didn’t know but I wanted to hang out with them. X’s friend put his arms around me and started to kiss me. Given the excitement of the moment, this seemed appropriate and perfect. I didn't know his name and I have no memory of what he looked like.
Suddenly we were pushed against the wall as a line of guys walked by, some of them were holding guitars. Roadies and the band passed by and then a man not much bigger than my 5 foot-nothing petite frame stumbled by. Our faces were inches away from each other. It was Johnny Thunders. I had never been close to someone so cool and it was amazing to see this person, who made music that I loved, walk by me, inches away, in the privacy of backstage, and then into the spotlight. I heard the crowd get loud as Johnny came on stage and me and the guy went back to our spot to watch the show. X was not having me and I wasn’t thrilled about that. I didn’t want to think I had done anything so terrible, as it was so innocent and excusable to me. We drove back home that freezing night in the La Mans and I held a special feeling, like a pearl in my hand. I was getting closer to my destiny, to the exciting life that I wanted to live, getting a little freer from my dreary upper Manhattan life.

Friday, March 18, 2016

expand and be happy

I need to do my taxes for the next coupe of days so I am  am reprinting this from my original blog, which no longer exists:
Scientific studies show that some people are just born happy, they are naturally happy all the time. Hmmm. Other people are not. They say they you have a happiness set point and that if you won the lottery or had some great thing happen to you, you would still be about as happy as you were before the event. The same goes for if a tragedy happened. You have a set point that really doesn’t change- unless you consciously try to. Here are a few of the suggestions from the book Happy for No Reason by Marci Shimoff
Ways to up your happiness set point
1. Do expansive things like dance and sing or whatever does it for you and hang out with people who make you feel expansive, not constrictive.
2. Eat high vibrational foods, raw, fresh, organic, sugar-free ( did i make this one up? not sure?)
3. Know the universe/world is a friendly place. if you do not think so, make a list of good things/supportive things that have happened to you to prove the case that it is indeed friendly, reinforce that belief
4. Acknowledge when good happens. They say that bad is like Velcro, bad memories, events, and thoughts "stick" and good slips off, slips away. So focus on the good to make it more “sticky” because what you appreciate appreciates.

Pretty cool stuff. I would add that you should be willing to let go of your story, the one you tell all the time about yourself, if it is negative, or reinforces negative beliefs.

Ultimately we can see the world as limited options, or endless possibilities- we all get to choose.

One of the coolest example I have is that I was a really negative person but I had that club, The Greendoornyc, and I would dj my fav songs and dress up and dance till dawn at least one night a week if not seven days, and I had so much prosperity and good luck despite my attitude because I was always in expansive activity, it was unconscious prosperity. Dancing and music saved my life, literally, accidentally. Now I get to do that intentionally, dig?

Thursday, March 17, 2016

so much happens in 24 hours!!

Update: Thank you. The horror has been lifted after some trauma release work and I am not in agony!!!!!!! Ah, sweet peace and comfort in body and mind, may we all know it.

Today I drove my new Highlander, that seats 7. Yep, it is a reality once you have two kids you gotta go bigger for a few years. Luckily my carbon foot print has been so tiny for the last half century. We bought it through our corporation. Yes, we are incorporated and I am such a grown up it is CRAZY! Life is remarkable. All transformation is possible.

Just to keep it interesting, I will leave you with this: Yesterday my daughter found an injured baby bird that had presumably fallen out of the nest. It was incredibly stressful to me because I was unable to help it. I had read online what to do and called 311 but there was no real help I could offer short of driving it to a vet, which was impossible. it was also stressful because the kids were so interested and I did not want them to touch it and they both wanted to get so close. I was still incapacitated by trauma and they were pretty crazy too after a course of events. I was so uptight and stressed and controlling and fragile. I felt like I could break in half and it was hard to rein them in. I told them that the thing to do was to leave it until its mother cam back and helped it back to the nest, which was true, but which might not happen for various reasons.

Every time a neighbor passed my daughter would run over to them and tell them the whole story and about how we were waiting for the mother to come back. She was over excited and talking in a loud voice that was going through me like a knife in my delicate state. I so wanted her to stop and speak softly. I felt so stressed and wanted to control her loud excited jumpy bursts whenever anyone came by.

And then this happened: She told a neighbor and the neighbor compassionately said "can you show me?" right then I knew that this woman had the time and energy and care to do whatever needed to be done, unlike me, who cared but had no other capacity. I breathed a sigh of releif. My kid told her how we were waiting for the mother to come back and the woman said, "I'll come back and check on it in a little while". Finally I got the kids in for dinner and there was a knock on the door and the woman was there telling me how she was driving out to the wildlife rescue place and telling me everything they told her and asked me if i had a syringe to give it water, which I did.

The best part was that I got to praise my girl for spreading the word and saving the bird! She did it, despite me. It doesn't get much better than that.


now lets listen to me, ohh i love that piano sound:

Wednesday, March 16, 2016


Ugh! Today was worse than yesterday. My capacity to handle stuff is at about 25% and my kids activation level is at about 400%. Not a pretty sight. I did my best today but really need a reprieve. The miracle is that monday, tuesday, and wednesday I have had help sent my way. I actually tried to arrange help for today and it fell through and I still got help. I am being sooo taken care of but that does not make it easy.

Life is amazing and some days it is so hard it is almost unbearable. The only thing I know is to keep going through it, there is no form of avoiding that works in my life. It will change. It always does. I have an incredible life. I can’t wait to get back to normal. That’s all I got.

well, here is another great song opportunity..