early christmas adventures

This post includes pictures taken during the last month or so: Rockefeller Center, Bryant Park, Central Park, the Strand, Union Square Greenmarket, subway rides, Times Square, Tom's Restaurant.

As always, one of my reasons for eagerly anticipating a break in school is to get to my holiday (book) hit list. A book I just finished, called My First New York: Early Adventures in the Big City, is a collection of essays from New Yorkers who (generally) ended up making it big. Adversely, the book ended up being a disappointment. Despite my overall dissatisfaction with the book two quotes in particular stood out to me and called my name (Jeennnnnn!).

Dan Rather: journalist, arrived 1965.

"In Texas, we have something we call 'the Cortez moment,' which refers to when the great Spanish explorer and conquistador of Mexico came and set up camp and then burned his boats.  The phrase 'burn the boats' means there's nothing but forward, onward, no turning back or running home scared. It's a motto for New York as much as for Texas.  When you move here, if you're any good at all, you burn the boats." (p. 38-39)

David Rakoff: writer, arrived 1982.

"There was no specific moment when the rigorous self-consciousness gave way to authenticity. It was more of a dim realization that the very act of playing the 'Are we a New Yorker yet?' game means you aren't one yet.  But it eventually happens, dawning on you after the fact, tapping you on the shoulder after you've passed it.  It comes from an accretion of shitty jobs, deeply felt friendships that last, deeply felt friendships that end, funerals, marriages, divorces, births, and betrayals, and you wake up one day to realize that you passed the eight-year mark decades prior; that you are older than all of the characters in Manhattan, with the possible exception of Bella Abzug; that you have been to a party in the garden at MoMA and watched the sun come up over Sutton Place and the Fifty-ninth Street Bridge and decided that, in the end, you'd rather stay home; that only a rich moron would buy his groceries at Dean & DeLuca; and that, as fun and Margo Channing as it might seem to be drunk and witty and cutting, it's probably better in the long run to be kind.  These are the realizations endemic to aging anywhere, I am sure.  It must happen in other cities, but I've really only ever been a grown-up here." (p. 146-147)

 

Meanwhile, we eagerly look forward to a visit from Derrick's parents. And Christmas! I can't wait. I hope, whoever you are reading this, that you have a wonderful time celebrating this season and the end of this year. 

Haskell, D., Moss, A. (Eds.). (2010). My first New York: Early adventures in the big city. 

             New York: Harper Collins Publishing.

Tradition

Every year growing up I watched The Nutcracker. And there are so many performances of it here but I didn't feel any of them were in my budget or would be super appealing, as long as it is, to Lissie this year. But then my friend Liz, super savvy and aware of all there is to do in NYC told me about a free and kid-friendly (read: short) version being performed at the World Financial Center. Double win!

Today I'm grateful for all the fun Liz's out there, and for traditions like The Nutcracker that always make me nostalgic for my childhood and for Christmas.

Adventure

I love living in Manhattan because adventure could happen anytime you leave your apartment. You could see something or go somewhere new everyday and you'd never experience everything there is to experience here. It's really wonderful on days where you have lots of energy, which I'm so grateful to say, I had today.

Home

For us, home is a very fluid concept and we like it that way. It's where we're from, our roots; it's everywhere we've ever been, everyone we've ever loved, met, or learned from; most of all, it's where we are now; it's the space we occupy, the people we meet and get to know; it certainly is the people we choose to make space for in our hearts, no matter how far away; and it is where we are going, wherever that is.

Home is wrapped up inside of each of us as individuals in our family. We choose to make a collective home together.

Lissie, in the moment as always, was asked where she was from the other night on the subway. She said in a slightly bemused voice, "I from New York City." Young as she is, with all the places she's lived in her short life, this was a perfectly reasonable response.

Food

I took this photo a month or two ago at Union Square. I happened to be there on an errand the same day as their Farmer's Market. Something I love about NYC--all the Farmer's Markets; they make eating more local and seasonal food so much easier.  Today I visited one a few blocks from my apartment, right in front of Columbia's campus on Broadway.  I bought some winter squash, kale, and about $7 worth of apples, which should hopefully last Derrick until tomorrow. The man is crazy for apples. I cut into one of them today for lunch. Not very sweet, but the crunch was amazing, the pied skin gorgeous sunrise colors. I was also tempted to buy a small square of fresh honeycomb but didn't succumb. Not sure I'll have the same resolve next time.

Music

New York wouldn't be New York without the sounds and especially the music.

Kindness

Why do we get married if not to be with someone who will be kind to us? 

Derrick has always impressed me as a sensitive, kind person. Last night I was reminded of this while we shopped for produce at the Westside Market stands. As sometimes happens in New York City, a homeless man came up to Derrick and started telling him about how rough the past few days have been. He asked Derrick for money, and Derrick apologized to him for not having any. The man then asked Derrick if he had a metrocard so he could ride the subway and get out of the cold for a while. Derrick surprised the man by immediately handing it over.

At that moment I was so grateful to be married to someone who so closely resembles some of my favorite fictional heroes. Atticus Finch. Father Gabriel from The Mission. A reformed Jean Valjean. Men who are sensitive, kind, and willing to give.

Today I am thankful for Derrick, a husband who is kind to me, and especially to others from whom he has no reasonable expectation of reciprocity.  

Nature

Every morning the sun swells over the Atlantic ocean, peeks over the edges of East Manhattan, and cuts straight through East Harlem and up my street, bouncing off in rosy hues from the brick facade of the building across the street. From rosy to vibrant, the sun carves knife-sharp shadows across the face of said brick building and lights up the whole street. 

 

 

Wondering perchance what I'm doing up at this ungodly hour to watch a sunrise?  This is the time of day I feel best. Straight out of bed, I do my best thinking and have the most energy at this early hour (the rest of the day is another story). Also, the streets are hushed now, particularly on the weekends. So, gratefully, me and my sunrise can enjoy this solitary moment without interruptions.

Feeling grateful today? Join me at the gratitude photo challenge.

Technology

My toaster oven. The apex of technology. Microwave replacement? done. Toaster? done. Oven? done. And it's even small enough to fit on top of my fridge in my cramped cozy New York City apartment. What's not to love?

 

A lesser-known reason I love this handy, small alternative to my not-quite-standard-sized gas oven is because I can use the latter as storage when we're not using it. Thanks to my toaster oven, our silverware can stay off our limited counter space almost all the time, just like God intended.

  

Feeling grateful? Awesome. Take part in the challenge.

biking by the hudson

Glorious date night last week consisted of, in my opinion at least, not-so-glorious Indian deli food, followed by an exhilarating bike ride along the Hudson. We was cruisin' like Susan B. Anthony; just before the weather turned chilly too!

"Hello, New Jersey!"

 

Date nights that make me feel young again are the best.

beautiful NY spaces

Let me clarify that I am mostly not into coveting. If I were into coveting, I would definitely covet the apartment I was lucky enough to hang at today with summa the ladies from my congregation. But I think sometimes it's good for us to look at our reality and say, "hey, I'm a student. I like that I'm a student. But that also means I get to live in a student's apartment." or "yeah, I'm an almost-thirty mom. And that means I have an almost-thirty mom's body." You get the idea. Maybe it's good for us to face reality, accept it, maybe even learn to like it, and just be happy for people who have a different reality right now (with their own assembly of setbacks that come with it. trust me, there are some).

As soon as I walked into L's apartment for ba-runch I started snapping photos. The way she had worked her living space was inspirational in an I'm-not-trying-too-hard-this-decor-just-makes-me-feel-happy kinda way. Let me walk you through the spaces and point out what I love. Also, huge confession, I uploaded each of these photos to Instagram so I could manipulate the images because, as it stands, my plain-old phone camera did not do justice to how it looked in real life.  L was nice enough to give me permission to post these pictures on my blog. Ready--oo!

Walk-in space. First off, I love this brick wall. I love the light highlighting the brick wall. I love the hanging blue bike. The bookshelf is in an accessible, but not obstructive locale. Oh, and she actually has cool books on her shelves. Even better, yes? Something I like about living in New York, with its crazy real estate, sky-high rent, and generally small spaces, is the way people learn to make efficient use of the space they do have. L has really mastered this I think. Way more than that, she makes do with less (this is HUGE actually). Her entryway is used, but uncluttered.

  

Kitchen/hallway. Like so many people here, L has a kitchenette. Which means next to zero counter area and smaller-and fewer-cupboards. She has partially solved this problem by using a small roll-around countertop which I didn't capture here. But you see the way she's solved the storage issue. By using her hallway to hang her kitchen aids.  I love this.

 

 

Living Room. Uncluttered. Functional. Comfortable. Eclectic. Artsy. Interesting. Colorful. Old meets New. Mortar and Pestle on the DVD player? I'm in love.

Living room/ Stairs to rooftop. Winding stairs will get me every time. Especially if they lead to a NYC rooftop. A part of me likes the low-key color, but another larger part of me wants to paint it turquoise. Your thoughts?

  

Roof.  Decked out in second-hand furniture. Bees buzzing (!). Potted plants.  Of course, if this were my rooftop the pots would be full of tomato plants. Oh well.

 

 

View. Can you spy the Cathedral of St. John the Divine down the street? There's also a view of the Hudson if you turn to your right. 

  

A huge plus: L is extremely likeable, which makes it easy to be happy for her for having such a rad apartment. She's an American who grew up in Austria because of her dad's work with the UN. I knew her decor had an international flavor.  I also knew almost instantly that she was some kind of designer. And...nailed it! Graphic design.

So the takeaway from this for me is: declutter. less is more. use space creatively and efficiently. be as colorful and eclectic as you want to be.

joie de vivre

Since I became a mom roughly three and a half years ago, I've found I'm becoming more interested in, and much better at, celebrating. Which seems ironic, right? But I'm realizing my interests in celebrating, mindfulness, and minimalism -seemingly separate things- all dovetail beautifully into, simply,  joie de vivre.  Because those three things, I think, are ways children naturally are inclined to experience life until they become jaded; sometimes much too soon.

I think in large part my attention to being "plugged in" with my surroundings (in my "Depleted" post, I write that this is possibly the biggest factor in my celebrating style) is due to seeing things through my daughter's eyes.  A ride on the subway isn't a mere ride on the subway.  It is full of sounds, smells, heat (oh, the heat!), and so so so many people to meet.  Lissie has the talent of melting just about everyone's chilly disposition when she inevitably asks "What's your name?" and, without waiting for a reply, "My name's Lissie."  Derrick and I were remarking today about how our daughter seems to bring out the best in everyone we've met here so far. Especially that elderly black woman Lissie insisted on holding hands with up the subway steps. They'd met about, oh, two minutes before, and the woman gently and happily obliged. 

Lissie has brought out the best in me, too.  Though I was formerly resigned to jadedness, she's been training me in the art of creating and appreciating new experiences.  She's taught me to savor them too.  Because by plugging into wherever I am, I am creating something beautiful and rich; I am creating the person she will become, by virtue of the things she is experiencing and will continue to experience, wherever we may be.

 (Eating Chinese food in China Town, Lissie style)

 

(Watching the squirrels in Central Park)