Happy Birthday! I hope there is chocolate on your ship.

Next  stop – Portugal!

Risey, aka Little One, left yesterday morning bright and early for Greece. From Greece she’ll board a ship to pursue her masters in International Relations.

I wish I could use this time to assess and plan my own future, but I am stuck in the present. As a freelancer, losing my biggest client has taken its toll and my only focus right now is lining up work. I’m a writer with no time to write, pah.

Oreo, a peculiar cat I’m caring for until Little One returns, clearly misses her. He’s shy, but comfortable–and entertained by the birds outside.

Today I’m working on two requested, but not yet assigned, articles for a teen magazine. If the mag doesn’t take them I will try to sell them else where.

you’ll never get there.

I found myself on the Appalachian Trail last week with my buddy. In an effort to escape the city for the day, we caught a train out of Grand Central and traveled 2 hours upstate to Wassaic County. We checked online before leaving and were under the impression there’d be a bike rental and a nice trail to follow.

We step off the train surrounded by mountains and spot the paved trail right away. Unfortunately, no bike rental and the idea of walking on a paved trail is boring. We wanted distance and speed. After all, one sees plenty walking in Manhattan.

So we waited an hour for the train again and backtracked about 20 minutes to the Appalachian trail stop. The train puts you right on the trail. This was my first time hiking, and I loved how difficult it was. It was cool under the cover of the woods, and we’d packed plenty of bug spray.

We ran into another hiker on our way back. We’d been going for three hours, he’d been going for 2 months! Hiking from Maine to Georgia, following the trail all the way. He flew past us down the slippery rocks and broken bridges, but we met him again at the station. He’d never been to New York and decided to check it out, then he’d return the next day to pick up where he left off.

I’ll post a link to his journey as soon as I can find it again. He’s was a nice man who’d quit his job and decided now or never. Now I’m still talking about this hiker’s adventure and even made him into a character in my play. He’s fascinating to me.

I’d love to do what he’s doing, though I know I’d never manage to cover 25 miles a day so my journey would be more like a year. But I can’t imagine doing that. No one is stopping me. And other than making sure there’s enough money in my account to cover my loan payments, the trip journey is not really cost prohibitive.

See, I need to shower first thing every morning or I get cranky. I don’t like bugs, and I’m a fickle eater. If I survived a week I’d return altered. If I could hike for a week, I bet I could do it for at least a month.

The thing is, I have goals for myself. Tangible goals that have everything to do with my career, and nothing to do with challenging my spirit. So now I’m rounding out my short and long term goals because after meeting this hiker, D. Jackson, I realize that my life isn’t very adventurous. I knew that actually, but I am now quite conscious of wanting it to be more interesting.

Mind you, I’m not heading for the Appalachian with a map from Maine to Georgia in my sack. But I have always wanted to hike to the top of a mountain–and I should probably learn how to turn right on a bike. (Don’t judge me, I didn’t learn to ride till I was 21.)

I first started this blog as a means to keep in touch with my sister, we’ll call her Little One. Little One leaves next month, September, to start grad school on a ship sailing around the world. She calls it experiential learning.
Little One is the first in our family to go to grad school, and I am super proud of her. Not at all jealous. Sometimes. Little One wants to make the world better by helping people. I want to make the world better by writing good stories. It’s hard to explain what that means without sounding pretentious. So I won’t.

In return, Little One started a blog to share her adventures. (I’ll post this link once she tells me what it is.)

So that’s who Little One is. She has about a thousand nicknames. I call her Little One because people always confuse me for the younger sister–she’s athletic and strong while I perpetually struggle to build muscle and increase my weight. I call her Little One because I can.

I am pitching a story on a Brooklyn artist today and hoping to land an assignment.

I don’t intend to count each day, but it felt appropriate just now.

Today is Day 1 of Glass House.

It’s 84 degrees out and the humidity is unbearable here in Brooklyn. I moved into a new apartment a few months ago. We painted the walls green, a light green the color of a leaf. It’s vibrant, and once I find the digital camera I’ll show you.

It’s intimidating to pick a color for a room because color has a strong effect on people- our concentration, moods, even creativity. We chose green because to me the color symbolizes life and presence.

Though it will still be humid tonight, I will be at the Park Slope Bandshell under a hazey sky concealing stars watching the Bill T Jones Dance Troup and listening to music. That is why I bear NYC in the summer time. The Bandshell will be full, there’ll be wine and picnics and lots of babies because this is the breeding capital of the world. But it’s also oozing with moments where art crashes into life and a former secretary reveals himself to be a world class musician, an IT wiz is actually a photographer with a poetic eye even he won’t admit.

If you ever live or visit NYC and experience an event that New Yorkers actually attend, you’ll hear the usual small talk of ‘What do you do?’ If you’re asked or asking this question, understand that most people don’t care how you earn your living.

  • What do you do when the boss is away?
  • What do you do even if it doesn’t pay?

In Brooklyn, NY.

I am on a mission.