Let's Talk About Love

Sagittarius Horoscopes

(Nov 22 - Dec 21)

Next Week

For the Week of Dec 28th, 2009 -- Your sense of adventure is in full gear this weekend. Seeking new experiences can put pressure on an ongoing relationship since you may be easily bored. Connecting with someone far away or from a different culture, though, should be your cup of tea. Hit the road and explore unfamiliar places to expand your horizons and fuel the fires of desire.

Well, it's true. I do like to travel. In fact, I am very antsy these days. That is not unusual for this time of year or for me most of the time. Most likely, I will be staying put for the winter, which is probably a good thing. I've been thinking about love lately. This can be an intellectual appreciation. In this case it goes a little deeper...right to the heart.

I carry a small copy of Kahil Gibran's The Prophet with me...I found it at a book sale at the Woodstock Library a few years ago. It reminds me of my brother, Chris. We both had a fondness for it back in the day. We read passages from it at his funeral...I'm not being morbid...it was an act of love. Whenever my hand brushes it accidentally, I think of Chris and smile. Real love does make you smile. All the angst and torment is a crock. If I want drama I'll see a Broadway show.

I'm no Pollyanna, but a little pain goes a long way in relationships. If it hurts all the time, what is it? I dunno, but it's not love. I am quite mushy by nature. During a movie or a song or a conversation I can become misty-eyed in seconds. Hugs and kisses are second nature to me. I'm all for love. If I have to hit the road for love I'm packed and ready to go, but not down a one way street. I believe you give everything for love...and in return you receive everything. Am I a romantic? Perhaps. Better to embrace love than hide from it...what is a safe distance...and why? Oh, I'm waxing philosophical again...Sagittarians do that. We have big hearts and strong intellects, it's said. We're too straightforward at times...I suppose that is true, but that's just who I am. The wanderlust does take me on occasion, but I love home sweet home...and home is where the heart is.

pic~yours truly & art by shari elf~i love it :)

horoscope~tarot.com

O, Death!

O, Death! It's like 'oh dear', but a bit more final, but is it really? Lately, death has been active in my circle of friends and acquaintances. It's the holiday season. There is an expectation of cheer and good feelings...sometimes unrealistic...that attaches itself to this time of year. It can be a set up to a let down. My own approach this year is to just go with the flow. This may be due to hangin' with death more than usual. Many people find death scary, even terrifying. They try to bargain or negotiate terms...not usually a successful effort. When death comes it is a ready or not situation for most people. There are those who live close to death for a time and come to realize this is inevitable. Some welcome him. Some resist until the end. They will not go gently. I do not invite death or welcome her at this stage of my life. Feeling very blessed with the people and opportunities I have keeps me wanting more of life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VoIebIKNS4s

An ending is necessary for another beginning. Chaos and destruction clear the way for order and construction. Death is part of that cycle. Not only our bodies die. Hopes and dreams die. Hatred and bitterness die too. If this didn't happen we could get stuck in a rut, going deeper and deeper on the road to nowhere. The death of a lifestyle can seem devastating at first...it's supposed to be. Later, a new way of life can prove to be the best thing for you. Death has done you a big favor, though, at the time it didn't feel that way.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IAs4L9AKUKk

I've been attracted to dark things as long as I can remember. I love Halloween, Dia de los Muertos, vampires, zombies, werewolves and haunted houses. Death fascinates me because there is a finality and yet an unknown element of a netherworld. Today is Winter Solstice or Yule, the shortest day and longest night. The burning of the yule log symbolizes the first fire of a new beginning. The sun will now grow in strength again. An end and a beginning celebrated for centuries...death of the old, birth of the new.

I'm going with the flow with Death too. After all, do I really have a choice? It's been a year of death for me on different levels. My foundation crumbled and turned to sand in an hour glass. I did the free fall for a while. Then I landed on my feet, a tad wobbly, but still standing. The future, though uncertain, is looking good. Death is death, always there busy taking care of business. That's as it should be. I'll be taking care of business too, enjoying the rocky road. Until we meet at that fork in the road that takes me to the next level, I'll give Death her due and appreciate all I have in this life. I'm quite healthy, not so wealthy and getting wiser by the year.

pic~dia de los muertos~oaxaca 2009

videos~o brother, where art thou? good one!

There's A Turkey In My Freezer

When I left work Wednesday evening I received a frozen twelve pound turkey, courtesy of one of the doctors in our office. I didn't realize I would be the recipient of said fowl, so I was slightly taken aback for the moment. What was I going to do with this bird? My oven has been out of commission since March and I don't see a new stove in my crystal ball. Yes, I have one. Thanksgiving dinner was being prepared by my brother and sister-in-law. My contribution was the wine. I plopped the gobbler in the backseat. As I drove home it occurred to me many people close to me are out of work or have been this year. I knew who tom turkey was going to feed. My blessings are many and though I constantly whine about my job, I am happy to have it. Never in my memory have so many people I know been unemployed for long periods of time. Everyone has scaled down almost everything they do. This is the holiday season. It is a double edged sword, opening wounds old and new. It is a festive time, whatever holiday you celebrate. This year people are more subdued. There is a serious undercurrent holding us back. The unsettled feeling that we haven't bottom out quite yet. Life does go on and we hang on for the ride. Sometimes, when there are less frills, you begin to see other things in a different light. It becomes clear what really is valuable. Your family, friends and health are the things to treasure. We all have each of those to a greater or lesser degree. This year will be odd for me. More changes. At first, I resisted, but now I realize it really is futile. I'm going with the flow...again. New things are on the horizon. It's looking brighter at the end of that crazy tunnel. So off I go, turkey in tow, heading for more change and actually, nervously, looking forward to it.

pic~natalie & ian thanksgiving 2009...sooo cute!

Lost and Found

We are all products of our life experiences. Our perception is naturally filtered by memories of things real or imagined that happened as we wander life's pathways. I have noticed people will confide very personal information, at times much more than I care to know. There is a certain intimacy and trust between a health care provider and patient. When I have been a patient I recognize the vulnerability I feel, so I get it.

People have confided mind-boggling information to me over the years. Infidelity, alien abduction and cannibalism are on the list. I call it the confessional effect. They may or may not see me again. If they do, it will probably be quite a while between visits. I am a stranger, but we are in a personal relationship for a very short time. Some see you as a captive audience and will try to cram their life history into the minutes you are together. Others are just compelled to blurt out a story that must go 'round and 'round in their brain. I have even had a couple of patients kiss me smack on my mouth. Yuck! 'I just wanted to thank you'. No, you wanted to be a perv. You never know what's going through a person's mind. The room is quiet while I image their heart. The light is low so I can see the computer screen. Minds wander. Best you don't know that itinerary.

Back in the 80's I worked as a supervisor in a large medical center. Nuclear Medicine and Nuclear Cardiology were separate departments, but our isotopes were stored in a common hot lab. I met Julie when she worked in Nuclear Cardiology. Every morning we would prepare for the day, discussing life and love, the usual small talk. One morning she ran in waving her left hand. A celestial blue sapphire glistened in the fluorescent light. The surrounding diamonds completed the tiny universe on her finger. She danced around the lab in delight. 'I designed it myself...' and proceeded to tell me about the proposal, the wedding plans and how many children they wanted. Cloud nine! We worked together for about a year after that. We soon lost touch. When I started a new job years later one of my first patients was Julie's dad, who had a background in nuclear medicine. I would ask for Julie and we would chat for a while.

When the Twin Towers were destroyed the list of people killed and missing was posted on a daily basis. The acrid smell of dust and death hung in the air for a week. There was that morbid compulsion to check that list every day. We knew of losses in the community. Most households were touched by death and disbelief. Then I saw Julie's name. We had not spoken to one another for many years, but I spoke to her dad not more than a month before that abomination.

The following year her dad came in for testing. We looked at one another. I told him I was sorry. He nodded, then we morphed into the same conversation we had every year about half-lives of isotopes and detection devices. That and the care of roses constitutes our yearly conversation to this day.

Two years after that Julie's dad and mom came in for tests. When her mother came into the room I could see her watching me work out of the corner of her eye. I thought I should say something. I told her I was so sorry. Then I told her I remembered how happy Julie was the day she came in wearing her sapphire engagement ring. Her mom was silent for a moment. Then she said 'They never found that ring. They never found Julie. We had a memorial service for her. Two weeks ago they called to say they found something of Julie's. A bone fragment. I cannot do this. I cannot keep burying my daughter. I told my husband not to tell me anything else. Nothing." I said I was sorry, so sorry. She shook her head. We finished the procedure. I took her hand and helped her sit up. She held my hand. She said 'Please don't take this the wrong way. It's just that I can't stand to look at you.' I knew instantly what she was telling me. I have a daughter, too. When she looked at me, how could she not wonder what Julie would be doing?

I helped her to her feet, feeling a strange bond which is difficult to explain.

They come back to our office to test their hearts each year, though their hearts have been through a test no heart should have. Her dad comes to me for his test, her mom goes to the other room. They came in yesterday. I saw her watching me out of the corner of her eye.

White Noise

Traffic has been brisk on my little corner of the world. Ambulance sirens mingling with rumbling fire engines and the random roar of the bikers across the way have kept the decibel level high since last night. When the air is just so and the moon is at a certain phase I can hear the Long Island Rail Road's plaintive train whistle. It was one of those nights when all the sound effects mingled into a kind of white noise phenomena. It became quiet, so quiet that it was eerie. I was working on my vampire tale, which I had neglected while soaking in mezcal and cerveza in Oaxaca. Usually, I get right in the groove. It's like a movie is running in my head. I can hear the dialogue and visualize the quick, the dead and the undead plotting and scheming as they enact my story. Not happening last night, not at all.

It was a windy night for a walk, but it felt cool and invigorating. Wet leaves were a slippery carpet. The smell of autumn in New York became those damp leaves and the scent of pepperoni pizza hot out of the oven at Marcella's. Strolling down Union Turnpike, heading for home, I realized the vampires would not be joining me on my return. I'm still distracted, in a good way, by creating assemblage pieces inspired by poetry or excerpts from books. It was back to the drawing board.

I'm working on a piece based on the poem 'Kingman Run' by Scott Wannberg. 'Tonight, Maybe...' also written by Scott, was my inspiration for my Oaxaca workshop piece, which I love. 'Kingman Run' is about love and loss. It's one of the most beautiful poems I know. The sketches are done. The parts are being collected and connected. It's small, like a precious jewel. I hope I can make it shine.

Meandering Home From Oaxaca

Sagittarius Horoscopes
(Nov 22 - Dec 21)
Next Week
For the Week of Nov 9th, 2009 -- You are uncharacteristically shy this weekend or, at least, less open with people you don't know very well. Seeking the safety of close friends allows you to socialize without the pressure to impress anyone. Escaping to a quiet place with a sensitive individual allows you to show your vulnerability, which will only make you even more desirable.

A quiet place sounds lovely! Vacations are great. All that eating, drinking and making merry is good for the soul. Oaxaca is a magical place, especially during Dia de los Muertos. Spirituality combined with fiesta equals the best of both worlds. Homecoming is welcome though. It was good to have a bit of time to wind down and get back in the groove, hopefully, not the rut.

Things seem calm here at the moment, but I sense it's that before the storm deal. I'll enjoy it while it lasts. The holidays, or horrordays as a friend of mine describes them, are looming on the horizon. The Floridians will be here for Thanksgiving. It will be wonderful to see them again!

This will be the first Christmas I spend away from my daughter since she was born. It will seem odd, but life can get much stranger than that. This has been a year of letting go. Some say that makes room for more in your life. I'll get back to you on that one.

Mitla Cemetery~Dia de los Muertos~Oaxaca 2009

The Black Madonna and The White Car

Sagittarius Horoscopes
(Nov 22 - Dec 21)
Next Week
For the Week of Sep 21st, 2009 -- You may be held accountable for every word you say this weekend, which can put a crimp into your social game. Yet being more circumspect demonstrates your maturity and commitment to maintaining harmony. Since one careless comment can put a chill in the air, think twice before openly expressing what's on your mind.

Hmm, this may make our Pictionary Tournament a bit more challenging next weekend. Yes, it's game night and the sky's the limit. Due to a previous dance injury, Twister is out for active participation, but I will be happy to referee. Oh, but wait. I may put a chill in the air by expressing my opinion. Maybe I'll just hone my Pictionary skills by doodling on napkins while my compadres twist the night away. That will demonstrate some level of maturity I should think. This may put a crimp in my social game.

Sometimes I take myself too seriously. It happened again yesterday. We were going to visit the shrine of the Black Madonna of Poland, Our Lady of Czestochowa, in scenic Doylestown, Pennsylvania. It's about a two and a half hour drive from Queens. Helen was doing the driving, for as my friends and family know, driving is not my thing. Yes, I have a car. It's a 1988 Dodge Shadow with under 35,000 miles on it. 'Nuff said. Usually I'm ok rolling along the highway, but yesterday I had this feeling before we left that there would be an accident with a serious injury.

Not us, but somehow we might need to pull over and assist in some way. The thought passed through my mind and left. We had a quiet uneventful drive, in fact we made good time. The weather was custom made for strolling. The sun was warm, the air was cool with a sky that was pristine blue. The tiny red chapel looked like something from a fairy tale with a small ebony spire reaching for that cloudless sky. As we opened the door, darkness enveloped us until our eyes adjusted to the prismed light from the stained glass windows. Our Lady gazed at us from her portrait, surrounded by sweet roses, pink orchids and rainbow shades of chrysanthemums. No one else was visiting at that moment. There is a certain energy at sacred sites that attracts the human soul. The religion or denomination is irrelevant. This is an ancient universal source that channels itself through different venues be that magnetic fields, sacred wells and waters, stone formations or even timeless groves of trees. That's the energy we could feel in the womb like semidarkness of that chapel. It was nurturing and invigorating simultaneously. It is a blessing in the true sense of the word. As we left the soft light and opened the door to the radiant sunshine we gazed upon acres of tombstones, mementos of lives lived. It certainly put things in perspective.

On our way home we experienced the joy of maneuvering through the Lincoln Tunnel and downtown Manhattan by car on a Saturday night. Did I mention the San Genaro festival? Oh, for a cannoli. That took just about as long as the drive from Pennsylvania. While crawling through the tunnel I had that image of an accident float into my brain. In fact, it dallied there while we were having lunch, but I just ignored it. I never mentioned it. From past experience I have found if these events do transpire people tend to hold the seer accountable in some way. If it's just an anxiety thing, whatever. Now, Helen is not one who would hold me accountable. On the contrary, she might be slightly alarmed. My point is, what's the difference if I show or tell? Fuggetaboutit...

At last we were on the final leg of the return, even exceeding 30MPH on the parkway when, you guessed it, traffic slowed and we were merging left.

I heard Helen say 'This must have just happened, there's glass all over the road."

As we inched by I looked to my right. A young guy in a baseball cap was frantically running from the scene, his expression anguished. He ran toward a group of people who had stopped to help.

On the side of the road a white car was completely overturned, four whees in the air, it's top accordioned into the elevated chassis. I saw no one lying next to the vehicle. The ambulances had not arrived. We inched along a few more feet and traffic started to move. We picked up speed. I was home in no time at all. Helen drove into the night with one last wave.

When I got into my apartment I couldn't shake a sadness. Accidents happen all the time. I live at a very accident-prone intersection. Squealing breaks, screeching tires and the stomach wrenching crunching impacts are no strangers to me. I've called many a 911. For some reason that poor kid running for help and the soul or souls in that white car got to me. My brain understands this might have nothing to do with those annoying flashes of images but my heart mourns for all at that tragic site.

Yes, I had a glass of wine or two while I pondered my reaction. It was then I concluded I was taking myself too seriously. In the light of a new day I still concur. It feels good to agree with myself. I've had these dreams and impressions as long as I can remember. Some other members of my family do too. I'll bet you have similar experiences once in a blue moon. I think it's natural. I doubt I'll ever know what to do about it. I leave that to the Black Madonna, Isis, Kali and the pantheon of deities who make up our universe. It's in good hands