Jumping

Did you ever see a movie where a character was compelled by an outside force to do something catastrophic? The example that comes to mind is the famous scene at the beginning of “The Omen,” where Damien’s nanny hangs herself under his Satanic spell.

Well, I just had a somewhat similar dream. I was doing photography at night, and walking near a prison, or some other highly secure facility surrounded by razor wire. I saw a pattern of clouds over the roof that I wanted to photograph, and I ran toward the fence and began climbing it, in order to leap over and get a better picture from the prison yard. Even as I was doing it I realized it was crazy, but I felt powerless -- I was being compelled to jump that fence. I went over the top and snagged my clothing on the razor wire, which meant I couldn’t quite jump free. I woke up just before I got sliced to ribbons.

Control issues, anyone? I mean, sheesh!

It’s true that there have been a lot of forces working against my routines lately, some of them good and some of them not. (The negatives are largely related to work.) This dream tells me I’m still a bit conflicted about moving away from my orderly, self-determined existence to one where I’m doing lots of new things and, well, growing. I’m also conflicted about my own distracting compulsions and resistances (to practice and sitting, for example).

Dreams are so funny!

(Photo: Street art in SoHo, June 2009)

Too Much Food!

Whew! A busy weekend, consisting mainly of cooking with Dave. He made mussels, seared fish and vegetables on Saturday, and seared scallops over an arugula/blueberry/lychee salad last night, as well as poached eggs over toasted slabs of good bread with a tomato and vegetable sauce. (Dave would probably shudder at how I’m describing these meals, since I’m sure those are not the appropriate gourmet terms for what we ate!)

At any rate, I now have a refrigerator full of leftovers and spare ingredients, and I feel like I weigh about ten pounds more. I think I need to eat peanut butter toast for one or two nights! But I can take my lunch to work, at least.

I’m lucky to have a talented boyfriend.

I went to the Zendo yesterday morning and then went walking in SoHo, which has always been a real hotbed of street art. I was surprised to find that a lot of the most popular spots, however, have been painted over or cleaned. It looks like SoHo is doing some sprucing up and the artists have fewer places to go, which is a shame. Now the neighborhood runs the risk of becoming, even more, a big mall.

This morning is gray and rainy. It’s wonderful to lie in bed and listen to the whisper on the leaves outside.

(Photo: Pines at sunset, Land O' Lakes, Fla.)

Dade Battlefield

When I was in Florida, my mom and I went to the new Tampa Bay History Center, which covers the history of Tampa back to the period before white explorers arrived and began clashing with the native Indians. The modern city got its start in the Seminole Indian wars, when Fort Brooke -- which later became Tampa -- was part of the supply line for troops throughout the state.

I know very little about the Seminole conflicts, except that they were essentially genocide on the federal government's part. The streets in downtown Tampa are named for Indian fighters and political leaders of that time, providing lingering reminders -- and probably bad karma -- from those conflicts. At the museum, mention was made of the Dade Massacre, which resulted in the death of nearly 110 soldiers under Major Francis L. Dade at the hands of the Indians in what is now Sumter County. (Near subsequently-named Dade City, but nowhere near more populous Dade County.)



Coincidentally, the Dade Battlefield -- now a state historic site -- is just off the highway we planned to take a few days later to visit my brother in Jacksonville. So Mom and I decided to stop by the battlefield and check it out. I grew up very close to there, but had never visited.



Unfortunately, as we approached the area, it was POURING rain. Sheets of water were falling on the windshield and I could barely see to drive. We thought we’d have to cancel our plans. But then the rain suddenly stopped -- as summer rainstorms do in Florida -- and we emerged from the car at the battlefield and walked around a bit.

The rain gave everything a silvery sheen. The woods were humming with bird-sized mosquitoes. It was fascinating, though kind of dark and eerie, too. We were the only people there.


This column allegedly marks the spot where Dade himself fell and died. (I wonder how they know that?)

Exit the King

Last night I finally got a chance to see "Exit the King," a new adaptation of Eugene Ionesco's play starring Geoffrey Rush and Susan Sarandon. It was terrific! An examination of life and the process of dying, it started out quite funny and lively and eventually came to a sort of quiet, dark, boundless place. Both of the stars were wonderful -- I've been a fan of Susan Sarandon for years, and she hasn't been on Broadway since 1972, so it was great to see her live. Rush, a brilliant actor, had a physically demanding part.

Ironically, given the play's subject matter, someone in the audience had a medical emergency during the show. I wasn't seated near them but I heard gasping and they were removed from the theater. An ambulance later showed up. I hope they're OK.

(Photo: Bushwick, Brooklyn, May 2009)

Feng Shui

I went to a presentation during lunch yesterday about Feng Shui, the Chinese principles of design that are supposed to provide a happier, healthier environment. (We don’t have these sorts of lunchtime discussions every day, by the way -- this was a special event by a woman who used to work at my office and now makes Feng Shui her career.)

I don’t know much about Feng Shui, but I learned some interesting things. The idea is to maintain a balance between five essential elements -- wood, fire, water, metal and earth. Different colors and shapes belong to each element, and there are also basic principles about orienting furniture in a room and the ways that furniture should be designed for optimum comfort. If done correctly, Feng Shui (which means “wind and water”) prevents blockages to the flow of Qi, or energy, that must be able to take a slow, meandering path through your home.

I think there’s some truth to Feng Shui, based on what little I now know. It makes sense that certain furniture designs would make us feel more secure and therefore happier and more prosperous. I’m not sure I buy all the specifics, but I do believe in energy flow, so I can see how it could work.

Fortunately, my apartment seems pretty good by Feng Shui standards. I might need a bit more fire in the room. Maybe I should go buy a couple of red pillows or something?

(Photo: At the supermarket, Jacksonville, Fla., June 2009)

Cat Drama

My homecoming yesterday wound up being a bit more complicated than I’d planned. Dave watched my cat, Armenia, while I was gone, and he did a good job feeding her and trying to keep her amused, considering how cantankerous she can be. But when I got home I realized she was even more cantankerous than usual. She complained loudly as she walked around the apartment, and during the short time I spent unpacking my bag she visited the litter box several times.

Uh-oh. The dreaded Urinary Tract Infection.

Indeed, once she skipped the litter box entirely and went on the floor nearby, which is a sure sign that she’s in pain. I also detected small spots of blood in a few places on my floor, which Dave wouldn’t have noticed but I could see because I know the grain of the wood so well.

So, despite the fact that I had to get to work, I called my boss and begged off, packaged up the cat and went to the vet. (I’m sure she was thinking, “Why did you bother to come home if you’re going to treat me this way?”) Armenia is renowned at the vet for being a fighter, and she did not disappoint, screaming like a banshee as the vet took her temperature and collected samples. He gave her an antibiotic, Clavamox, which I fold into her Fancy Feast every morning and evening.

To top it all off, we had a huge thunderstorm last night, which freaked her out completely. She’d run across the apartment when the lightning flashed, then run back to me at the sound of the thunder. The poor thing was running relays for about an hour.

This morning she seems fine, though, lying next to me and giving herself a bath. I think she’s glad I’m home, but you can never really tell.

(Photo: Sea grapes in Anna Maria, Florida, May 2009)

Poinciana

I'm back from Florida, where I spent a weekend on Anna Maria Island with some friends and visited my family near Tampa and in Jacksonville. I ate Cuban food, went to the new Tampa history museum, walked the new Riverwalk along the Hillsborough River, and spent quality time with my 2 1/2-year-old niece, who talks nonstop! I had a great time and it was good to see not only my niece but also my mom, dad, brother and other family, and numerous old friends.

In Anna Maria, which is near Bradenton south of Tampa, the poinciana trees were blooming beautifully. I took these shots while roaming around the island, a very low-key place for an escape to the beach. No high-rise condos, no malls, very few crowds. I've been visiting there for years, and I always go home happy and rested.