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From London to New York, living in an expat daze

Posts from the Life, a little four letter word. Category

Mother & Child


Friday in February, New York Fashion Week, and a blizzard hits the North East.

At the Highline Stages I managed to snap more than a few attendees as they left one show 
for the next but sometimes it pays to stop.  Wait for the quiet moment and it will find you.
I turned, and there they were.

Mother and child, through the glass door, waiting in the warmth, waiting for the taxi.




****

Reblogged from tomwisk:

Before we get too far into this, you're asking yourself why is Tom addressing a blog to me and who are the other two people? Why you? You're readers of my blog, possibly the only ones. And you probably have more followers than I do. This won't cost money, only a bit of time. I want you to reblog this post.

Read more… 548 more words

My wonderful friend Tom Wisk is tangled up in the itch and scratch drama that is . . . bedbugs! Any help, advice, experience, tales to tell, there is a happy ending to this experience we all fear and dread would be greatly appreciated. Please and thank you!

Union Square, NYC, Friday afternoon. 

Sunshine with the first of the season's chill winds nipping through the air

and the thrill of the completely unexpected waiting in the Square.

One space, one simple collection of maybe thirty minutes in time.

How to make sense of such a jumble?  Why even bother trying?

It's life. It get's thrown at us and we live it on so many different levels.

We all ride the merry-go round.  Together and here we go!

(and maybe grab a pair of sunglasses before continuing . . . )


                      ~ ~ ~















                                            ~ ~ ~

   I could stop here, keep it pink and keep it simple but then I noticed . . . Holly!

   (and let's not forget, this is Union Square, where everyone is family!)














   Music provided by the wonderful phunky Pink Puffers, a brass band from San Lorenzo and if you
   get the chance to enjoy their music, grab it!

   Holly is an artist and if you ever get the opportunity to enjoy her company, well, I shall leave 
   that up to you!

   Enjoy the ride!


                                            . . . . .


 

 

 

A quiet day at home behind the door up on the fifth floor with a glimpse
through the keyhole of a lazy day.

I should be doing this and I should definitely be doing that but then 
I found this photo and started playing with it. . . . 

Where would I be without my iPod for company? Bob Dylan is revisiting from 
Highway 61, making his way back to New York City because he believes he's had 
enough down on Rue Morgue Ave. That's Tom Thumb's Blues for you.

And now Miles Davis is in the house.  

The title of his track?  So What! 

We all have days like this, don't we?  Hope yours has been good!




. . . . 

These young men are meeting each other for the first time.  Their first day of official employment after 
finishing university studies.

They are waiting at the platform of an English railway station to take them to the Commando Training
Centre for the Royal Marines. Ironing boards are part of their kit.  

What to say when there is so much to say, when the words can't get past the lump in the throat . . . ?

. . . . .
+ high-res version

Trayvon Martin Rally Union Square

March 21st.  Union Square, New York City.

1,000,000 Hoodie March for Trayvon Martin.  17 yrs old.  Shot to death February 26  in Florida.  Found to be in possession of Skittles and Iced Tea.

He looked suspicious – he was wearing a hoodie.

Trayvon Martin's father

The parents of Trayvon Martin, Tracy Martin and Sybrina Fulton.

Peace not Violence

We all are one

We ARE Trayvon

Weapons . . .

Above the Crowd

One woman

We all are One

Hoodie Girl

One little hoodie, one in a million.

George Zimmerman, shooter and neighbourhood watch captain, 28 years old, remains free.

Recommended Reading:

Charles M. Blow – The Curious Case of Trayvon Martin

Village Voice -Steven Thrasher

Gail Collins – Pity the Poor Gun Lobby

Huffington Post – Trayvon Martin 911 Tape

msnbc.com – Trayvon’s Final Call

+ high-res version

Subterranean Lovesick Blues

Ever had one of those days where you want to run off and join a band, make some music?

NYC subway buskers singing Bob Marley in a crowded carriage, express to the Bronx,

and they were GOOD!

Yes, gritty and grainy but that’s life down there.

No woman no cry . . .

Woman with Man

No woman no cry

Running Minstrels

. . .  and don’t you just know, everything’s gonna be alright!

+ high-res version

International Women’s Day – New York Style!

Are you confused by the recent Republican probing into women’s reproductive rights?  I know I am.  I am so confused I think sometimes I have bungee-jumped into a time warp where I am now back in the grim dark days of unwanted pregnancy, or fear of pregnancy.  Nothing to do with me but everything to do with my mother.

Every Saturday afternoon, (a slight exaggeration but this is how it felt!) we would go to our local church for the ultimate mother daughter bonding experience – the sacrament of confession!  My father and many brothers always managed to be elsewhere in the character building pursuit of sports while we engaged in the process of asking Father Parish to forgive our sins, a whole week’s worth!  My sins “I was catty and unkind, I was disobedient and  told fibs  . . .”  always merited a don’t do it again and say three Hail Mary’s which seemed fair enough to me.  My mother however always seemed to be a little more troubled when she came out of the confessional. A woman with watery eyes at the best of times, which I later recognised as eyes of utter exhaustion, red rims framed her salty ponds. Her sin, I later learned, was in denying her husband his conjugal rights.

The love my mother and father had for each other was never in doubt, nor did we as children suffer the agonies of the unwanted.  We were a Good Catholic Family, one amongst millions!  And my parents contributed to the growing numbers.  Forget the difficult pregnancies, the tortured labours and nervous breakdowns.  We said rosaries, lit candles, said novenas and lived as best we could with a depressed mother thinking all the time how blessed and extra special we were because suffering was so up there on the cross with Christ and his beloved mother Mary!

In my fumblings of faith and confusion there was one fact about Jesus that stood out above all –  he was an only child!  Which wasn’t the Catholic way at all!  Just ask GOP candidate Rick Santorum who waves his finger in a no, no, no about that C-Word . . .  contraception!

Is this too much information?  Or perhaps not enough? Links below for the curious!

***

Click to visit the original post

This Saturday past, in recognition of International Women’s Day, a group gathered together to march from Union Square down to Liberty Plaza, aka Zuccotti Park.

Enough with the words, here are some photos – SOOC!

The march down Broadway . . .

The Pink Ladies on the March, something to see!

More observers . . .

Hmmm, love to know what these observers are thinking about the marchers coming towards them . . .

But hey, this is Soho, Saturday afternoon and the sun is shining and the crowds are out! What’s not to love!

We are family!

Thoughts in the air?

Welcome to Liberty Plaza / Zuccotti Park!

Miss Butterfly of Liberty Plaza!

This wonderful woman, with her smile and in her wheelchair, came in from Queens with sandwiches for the marchers . . .

Miss Butterfly with her summons – her wings obstructed the sidewalk, amongst other citations to do with skates etc

Happy Every Day Every One!

+ high-res version

LONDON CALLING . . .

Old and New
Cranes over London

This week I was so excited to be back in London, if only for two days.  How to squeeze the most out of such a brief visit when we spent so much time getting there, another chunk spent leaving?  Travel, it eats time.  Plus, I wasn’t particularly interested in seeing the sights.  I wanted to see family and friends.  I wanted to turn the clock back and drop in and see old neighbours, walk the old streets and embrace the sites familiar to me.

Alas, such was not to be.  We made plans, we changed plans. During this brief time, staying in the London Bridge area, I found myself walking the streets of London in a New York state of mind, comparing and contrasting these two wonderful cities which make up my New York-London daze.

Here or there, New York or London?  This is a question I am often asked.  I no longer ask it of myself if only because it implies a choice I do not have.  It is what it is and we are we are.

Good days, bad days, they come and they go, wherever we happen to be!

For more contrasting views, visit http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/03/09/weekly-photo-challenge-contrast/

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